


Anti

by Kitkatzgr8



Series: Of Vigilantes and Villains [1]
Category: Youtube RPF
Genre: Forced Villainy, Gen, Honestly Jack is just a smol bean who needs a lot of hugs, How Do I Tag, I'm kinda proud of this story but hate it at the same time, Idk with trigger warnings and ratings so please tell me if changes need to be made, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Slow Updates, Superhero Youtuber AU, Supervillain AU, TW for blood, Youtuber AU, alternate universe diverging in the 1940s, basically everyone I know and love on youtube is in this, h e l p some of the main characters ive never watched so idk how to portray, inferred torture, mentions of abuse, superhero au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-05-04 09:02:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14589588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitkatzgr8/pseuds/Kitkatzgr8
Summary: And with one word, he formed his new entity. A darker part of himself; a person that wasn’t Jack, but was. A cold, ruthless, calculating being that would stand in the forefront until Jack, watching from the back, could find a way to escape this life that he couldn’t remember choosing.An entity that could do everything he stood against.“Anti.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Useless~ A Septiplier Story](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/379902) by jessvampangel. 



> Hey look, it's me again
> 
> yeah, that random author who never finishes their works and never seems to stay dead
> 
> it be me
> 
> so I've decided to try to write some Youtube stuff because I love my precious children so hereyago another superhero AU ya boi it's gonna be lit
> 
> I guess just a disclaimer so I don't get sued or whatever but this was inspired by a story on Wattpad entitled "Useless~ A Septiplier Story" by jessvampangel and it's super good so I guess I'll just promote it in thanks for the inspiration? fair trade I hope lol
> 
> Anyway, hope y'all like. Some chapters are kinda longish, just a warning, but hope it's all good.

_Séan had seen the whole exchange. He was supposed to be in his room like his father had told him to, but they hardly ever got visitors and he was curious. Peeking around the corner, he saw his father open the door to see two figures standing in the pouring rain._

_“Hello,” a suited man greeted him cordially. “Sir, is this the...” Looking down at the now-drenched document he held in his hand, he squinted to read the smearing letters. “The… ‘McLoughlin’ household?”_

_The bearded man scratched at his messy stubble as he responded, doing so in a thick, Irish accent. “If this is about the loan, I swear I’m close to gettin’ my next paycheck, so-”_

_“Sir, it says here that you’re unemployed, but that’s not what we’re here for,” the man in the suit stated calmly, reaching into his suit pocket to pull out a small business card, which he handed to the man at the door. The man promptly shoved it into his pocket without taking his eyes off the man in the suit. “My name is Jawed Karim, on behalf of TúFeadán University,’ and this,” Karim put his hand on the shoulder of the small boy next to him, “is one of my students, Fe-”_

_“I don’t give a rat’s arse about who you both are, ye gobemouche, just get to the point,” the man said gruffly. The boy, undeterred by the man’s rudeness, waved, smiling brightly up at the man. The man didn’t smile back._

_Karim blinked in surprise at the man’s bluntness, then shrugged and continued. “…Which brings us to what I came here to talk to you about: your son.” Flicking a wet strand of dark hair out of his eyes, Mr. Karim forced another smile. “Actually, would you mind letting us inside to talk? It’s starting to rain quite a-”_

_“What do you wan’ with ‘im?” the man grunted, still standing in the doorway and making no move to let the others in. “Doesn’t have much brains, if that’s what this program is for. And if it’s for his capabilities... psh.” The man waved a grungy hand in the hair dismissively. “He doesn’t have one yet. Doesn’t show signs of one either.”_

_“Sir,” the man started again, agitation beginning to creep into his voice. Looking down at a gold watch latched around his wrist, he checked the time, then looked back up at McLoughlin. “We believe your son has great potential and would love for him to attend our institution. The facility is located in the United States and would be quite a journey, but the travel cost would be taken care of. He’s being offered a full scholarship, provided anything he might need, including food, a room, textbooks...” The man didn’t react in any way. Karim slowly began to speak again. “..He’ll also be given three paid visits home a month, and, if necessary, a generous amount of money would be allotted for the parent to support themselves while the child is gone. Normally, this would only be for students 16 years or older in a low-income home, but perhaps we could pull a few strings if it would-”_  
  
_“You can have ‘im,” the man responded gruffly. “How much?”_

_“Ah, yes, of course…” Karim, relieved, reached for the lock on the briefcase he was holding, then drew back, suddenly noticing the rain again. “Just a second…”_

_Clasping his hands together, Karim closed his eyes, humming to himself as he appeared to think of something. Mr. McLoughlin uneasily glanced at the small boy, then back at the suited man._

_Then, with a crackling of branches, the dying bush at the side of the door shot up, spiraling in an intricate design of vines, branches, and leaves over the doorway. The branches interwove with each other, forming a thick, umbrella-sized canopy over the man and the boy. Droplets of water rained down on the three men as the wet leaves forming the roof finished growing, but as they slowed to a stop, the two were finally out of the rain. Satisfied that the papers in his briefcase wouldn’t get wet if opened, Karim opened his eyes again, then flipped open the case. Ruffling through his papers for his minute, the boy looking curiously over the other man’s shoulder for a glimpse inside the house, he finally pulled out a thick manila folder. Flipping the flap up, he showed McLoughlin the contents._

_He seemed to salivate at the sight, but then shook his head. “Won’t work.”_

_Karim frowned. So did the boy. “Mr., that’s, like, a bajillion dollars!” the boy said in confusion, looking at the stack of bills in the envelope._

_“No, the amount’s fine,” the man corrected. “Just… with my power…” He sighed. “It’s just best if I show you. Give me a bill.” Karim compiled, handing the man a 20 euro note. The moment it touched his hand, it turned into, of all things, a cocktail. McLoughlin glanced at it for a second, then downed it, throwing the glass to the side for it to shatter among the garbage littered around the house. “Blessing and curse,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “If I touch an object, I can turn it into the amount of money it’s worth. But with regular money…” He shrugged, then gestured at the broken glass. “It turns into something of the same value, whether I want it or not. I’m going to need an object as payment.”_

_Karum nodded. “Monetary capability, I see. I must admit, I’ve never encountered one quite like that before. I’m sure I can find something of equal value...” Reaching into his case once again, he dropped the envelope into it and fumbled around, looking for something of value. Then he closed the case and, after searching his pockets, sighed and slipped the gold watch of his wrist. “Will… this suffice?”_

_The man’s eyes gleamed, and he nodded. Snatching the watch out of Karim’s hand, he smiled broadly as they turned to a thick stack of euros. “Nice doing business with ya,” he said, tone of voice completely changing from the rude, difficult man who had greeted them. “Séan, get your things!” he shouted back into the house. “You’re goin’ on a trip!”_

_As his father glanced back, Séan’s heartbeat quickened, and he quickly pulled back from around the corner, leaning against the wall and breathing heavily. Were they really going to take him away? To some school? What was wrong with the school he was going to now?_

_“Séan!” his father’s voice had called again. “Sorry,” he said to Mr. Karim. “He must be upstairs, lost in another game of his.” He chuckled. “The little rascal. I’ll be right back.”_

_Heart racing even faster, Séan pushed away from the wall and rocketed up the stairs, quickly turning into his room and jumping onto his bed. Flipping open his trusty, lime-colored DS, he tried to feign relaxation._

_It didn’t fool anyone._

_“You,” his dad growled, barging into his room. “I told you to go upstairs. You think I’m blind? That I’m deaf? That I wouldn’t hear you thundering up the stairs?”_

_“P-please don’t make me go, pa! I don’t want-”_

_“I don't care what you do or don’t want, it’ll be a good experience for ya,” his father spat, walking closer to his son. Séan closed the DS, opened his mouth again to plead, then shut it as his dad grabbed his arm. “You’re going to go, and you’re not going to complain one bit, you hear? If you put up a fight, you will be sorry.”_

_“You don’t know anything about the school, pa. You didn’t ask!” Séan said frantically, trying to pull away from his father’s grasp, which only tightened as he struggled. “You don’t know where they’ll send me! You don’t… I don’t… They paid you off… Real schools don’t do that… Pa...“ Tears slipped from his eyes, and he sniffed. “I… I’m scared,” he whispered._

_“You have one minute to pack,” he growled, letting go of Séan’s arm and leaving behind faint marks that would undoubtedly turn into dark bruises in the morning. “If you aren’t down there by then…” He turned and walked back out the door, leaving an unspoken threat hanging in the air._

_Séan only allowed himself 5 seconds to indulge in his emotions before he bit back a sob and resolutely grabbed his backpack in order to begin shoving things into it. There wasn’t much to pack. Just a couple pairs of clothes, a few games cartridges, and, of course, his DS. Shoving a half-eaten cookie into his mouth that he had found in one of his drawers, he stood in his doorway, looking around the room he had lived in for most of his life. He didn’t necessarily have too many happy memories connected to this place, but still, it was familiar. Brushing away any remaining tears, he bit his lip, then turned and headed downstairs._

_“No worries, Mr… Jawed, right?” Séan heard his father say as he slowly walked down the stairs. “I’m sure the lad’ll be down soon…” Stepping down onto the first story, he shakily shuffled forward, the untied laces of his beat-up sneakers wrapping around each other and almost pulling him down._

_“Just Karim is fine,” the suited man replied, and as Séan rounded the corner, he saw the man check his wrist, then absentmindedly rub the now-empty place where his watch once had been. “And it’s to be expected. We’re willing to give him all the time he needs.”_

_The boy took another step forward, then froze. He looked at the front door, where the three were talking, then slowly turned to look behind him. This wasn’t a very big house, and the back door was in his sight._

_He could run. He could run right now and never look back. He wouldn’t have to leave his country with some strangers. He wouldn’t have to go to some strange, secretive school, with a suspiciously Irish name for being located in an American country, that had paid off his father to let him come there. He couldn’t stay at his home, that was for sure, but he could probably find a place to stay, or some kind soul would take pity on him until his capabilities emerged and he could support himself._

_He took a step back, then froze as the floorboard creaked underneath his foot._

_Neither of the adults noticed._

_The boy, however, did._

_Just as Séan was about to take another step backward, a pair of bright blue eyes that nearly matched his own peeked around his father’s back. He froze again. Then, the boy’s face split open in a wide grin and he waved. Karim noticed his student’s movements, then followed his gaze to where Séan was standing in the hallway. He smiled as well._

_“Ah, you must be Séan!” Mr. Karim said gently, beckoning the boy over to them. Looking over his shoulder once again, Séan looked back only for his father to catch his gaze, eyes communicating exactly what would happen if he tried to run for it now. Shivering, the boy broke the gaze, then slowly made his way over to the group._

_“Hello,” Karim said in greeting as the boy shuffled up to the doorway, noting the slightest flinch as McLoughlin put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I am Mr. Karim. We’ve extended a remarkable opportunity to you in the form of a full-ride scholarship to our school.” The boy nodded slowly, looking down at his sneakers. “We’ve already approved it with your father, now the only thing needed is to get your permission.”_

_The boy’s head shot up. “Y-you… I get to choose?” he squeaked._

_Karim nodded, smiling gently at the boy. “Of course! We can’t, and would never force you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with. But, it really is an amazing opportunity. You’d be provided with the best learning the world could provide, right down to a select number of handpicked, capability-specific teachers to give you an individualized learning experience. And-” Karim’s eyes twinkled as he gave the boy a wink, “some of the best food in the world, if I do say so myself.”_

_The corners of Séan’s mouth twisted up in a small smile, but it quickly disappeared as he was reminded of his father’s presence by the fingers digging harshly into his shoulder._

_He looked down and mumbled something._

_“I’m sorry, what was that?” Karim asked patiently._

_“Speak up, lad,” his father hissed, squeezing his shoulder again._

_“I’ll go,” Séan breathed out, not raising his eyes from the ground._

_Karim forced a small smile, then reached out to pluck McLoughlin’s hand from his son’s shoulder. Replacing the hand with his own gentle touch, he slowly guided Séan away from his dad. “Well, that’s that then, I suppose,” he remarked. Looking around him, he noticed that the rain had slowed considerably. “So, I guess we’ll be off, then. Unless you have any further questions, Mr. McLoughlin?”_

_The man shook his head._

_“Perfect. Well then…” He trailed off, then shrugged. “That’ll it. All the contact information is on the card I gave you. Once Séan is all settled in, we’ll be sure to send you a full report.”_

_“I’ll be looking forward to it,” McLoughlin said flatly, his tone conveying that he couldn’t care less about the report. Karim forced another smile, then turned and began to walk back towards the street. Looking up and sharing a quick glance with the smiling boy next to him, Séan quickly broke eye contact._

_“Well, come on bro, let’s go!” the boy said excitedly in an accent that Séan couldn’t quite place. Before he could protest, the boy had grabbed his hand and began to drag him towards the car Mr. Karim was opening the door of._

_“Y’know,” Mr. McLoughlin remarked loudly, as he turned to walk back into his house, stopping all of them in their tracks. He continued thumbing through the stack of bills, which he still hadn’t let out of his grasp, as he began to speak again. “You’ve got a powerful elemental capability right there, Karim.” Pocketing the euros, he laughed hoarsely, gesturing up at the canopy above his head. “I’ve got a neighbor down the road, maybe a block or two away. Plant elemental, like you. Runs a right nice flower shop. But she only speeds up the growing by a day. You made that bush grow quicker than a blink! Only power I’ve seen quick as that is… what’s that pansy’s name…” He snapped his fingers, trying to remember. “Oh yeah, Goldenrod!” He laughed again. “Goldenrod, I’m assumin’ you’re heard of ‘im, right? You American’s are pretty idolic of your pretty little ‘superheros,’ aren’tcha? Prancing around, saving everyone with their pretty little powers.” He shook his head. ”America. Only place a man with the ability to grow flowers could be seen as a hero.”_

_The boy holding Séan’s hand finally broke from the smile he had somehow maintained the whole exchange. “He’s not a pansy!” He said angrily. ”And he is a hero! Mr. Karim-”_

_Karim cleared his throat from the street, cutting him off. “Mr. Karim thinks it’s time we take Séan back to the University. You want to show him around, don’t you?”_

_The boy stared back at him, but then backed down, looking at his scuffed sneakers as he nodded._

_“Well then, let’s be off,” Karim said, gesturing towards the inside of the vehicle. Séan looked back at the doorway once more, then squeaked as he was pulled into the vehicle by the energetic boy still maintaining a grip on his hand. The car door slammed shut, and, jerking backward at the sound, the Irish boy found himself scrambling to the other side of the car, as far away from the boy as possible._

_“No worries, it’s just the car door,” Mr. Karim said gently, quietly closing the driver’s door as he slid into the front seat. “Though maybe we shouldn’t slam it shut so loudly next time, huh?”_

_“Oops, sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you!” the boy said sincerely, glancing nervously at Séan as the car began to move. Looking over the boy’s shoulder, the Irish boy got one last glimpse of his house before they moved on down the street._

_Again, it wasn't that the house held the happiest memories for him. In fact, if this was any other circumstance, he would have relaxed as the peeling paint and sagging roof of the decrepit hellhole disappeared from view. Instead, he was tensed up against the door of the car, warily shooting glances at the man driving and the boy continuously chattering about something in the seat opposite him._

_“You’re gonna love it! Well, hopefully, anyway. I’m kinda the only kid there right now…” he frowned. “Actually, I’m really the only student there. But whatever, it just makes getting you so much more cool! It’s a little boring with nobody to play with.” He paused, then quickly added, “I mean, not that you aren’t super cool or anything, Mr. Karim!”_

_The driver chuckled. “It’s quite alright, I completely understand."_

_"But... uh... are you okay?" The boy broke off from his excited ramblings to glance in concern at the silent Irish boy._

_“S-sorry, I'm f-fine,” Séan muttered, eyes still nervously darting around the car. They had just passed the last street he recognized and now was in an even more unfamiliar territory. "I j-just... you guys can drop the a-act now."_

_"The... 'act?'" Karim frowned, then slowly turned on his blinker and pulled to the side of the road. Turning around, he fixed Séan with a curious stare. "What act do you believe we are putting on?_

_"I... uh, about the s-school," the boy stuttered, looking down and playing with his hands. "I k-know I don't look very s-smart, but I'm pretty sure that the school w-was just a cover-up." Reaching up to rub his neck, he looked down at the floor of the car. "I... you just don't have to pretend. I'm not going to try and run, w-whatever you're planning to d-do with m-me." His voice caught in his throat as his situation finally seemed to sink in. That was a complete lie, of course. The moment he caught them off guard, the boy would bolt out of there as fast as humanly possible. He hadn't learned much from his father, but one thing he knew for sure? Never trust anyone. Especially not sketchy, well-dressed people that paid off his dad to let him come to a 'school' he had never heard of. His heart leaped into his chest as the man shared a glance with the boy, then turned back to him. He pressed himself back farther into his seat, all thoughts of flinging open the door and running leaving as he was frozen in Karim's gaze._

_"Séan..." Karim began quietly. "I promise that we have no ulterior motives in this. All that I've said is completely true. There is a 'school,' of sorts, that we would love for you to attend. I was going to bring this up later at the actual location, as to not overwhelm you with all of the new changes, but now seems as good as a time as any. We are still allowing you the choice of coming with us. I am aware that you were unable to... well, perhaps not honestly speak your mind back at your house. If you do not want to attend, we can surely find another relative for you to stay with as your father seems, to me, to be... unfit to care for a child. Unless you would like to return back to your house, that is. We just want to do what you would like to do. But I promise, with all of my heart that we have no plans to hurt you, or in any way exploit you, and I will attempt to assure you of that in any way in my power."_

_There was something so sincere about the way he said everything, and Séan relaxed slightly. He wasn't sure whether to believe the man, but he sounded so earnest in what he said, and he had still offered him the choice to leave if he wanted. Surely, someone who was lying about that wouldn't give that as an option, right?_

_"O-Oh..." Séan whispered, relief flooding over him. His cheeks flushed red as he realized how stupid he must've sounded to the two, and he ducked his head in embarrassment. Of course, his idiotic, paranoid self would take it the wrong way and mess it up, ruining his chance of making a friendship with this seemingly nice kid and almost grandfatherly-like man. The thoughts racing through his head turned from escaping the car to his screwup. "They hate me now they hate me I messed everything up they aren't going to want m-"_

_“Oh, it's quite alright!” Karim cut off the unwelcome thoughts. Séan looked up to see the man looking at him kindly. "I should have been more sensitive to how you would react to this, especially considering your... ah, situation. It was entirely my fault, and I hope this doesn't put you off from trusting us. I promise we have no ill intent towards you."_

_"You thought we were going to kidnap you or something?" the boy said in horror, looking at Séan with wide eyes. "We wouldn't do that! I promise! We're not the bad guys, we're actually the-"_

_"We'll explain all of that later," Karim said gently, cutting off the boy as he pulled the car back onto the road after one last glance to make sure Séan was all right. "And I'm surprised at your reaction, since you're the one convinced I was, and I quote, "part of a super-secret underground league of mob barrel bosses that had come to kill you' when I first found you," he added teasingly._

_The boy's face flushed a deep red. "I was 5!" he tried to defend himself, but Karim just laughed._

_"Y-You didn't trust him at first?" Séan asked tentatively._

_“Oh, yeah, I was a paranoid kid. Well... still am, to be honest. Mr. Karim just told me to be super friendly with you. You seem chill, though! I didn’t realize that you’d be the same age as me! I was expecting, like, an adult or something. You're already so much awesomer!” Séan’s gaze flickered around the car nervously again, but a ghost of a smile made its way onto his face as he nodded. The boy noticed that his tensed up position relaxed a bit, and he continued talking, hoping he was doing the right thing._

_"I-I'm really sorry, again, for... all of that," Séan mumbled to the boy during a lull in the conversation. They had been driving for a while now. Night was beginning to fall, and somewhere in the conversation, both of the boys had ended up sitting next to each other instead of pressed against opposite walls of the car. "I get r-really nervous around strangers."_

_The boy stopped, as if thinking of something, and then smiled. “Well, how about we start over with introductions? So I’m not a stranger anymore, yeah?” Silently, the Irish boy nodded. “Okay! Um… hi! What’s your name?"_

_“H-hi,” Sèan stuttered, nervously fiddling with his hands. “My name is Séan. You already knew that, though. S-sorry.” Risking a glance up, he saw the other boy smile._

_“Starting over, remember?” The boy said, smiling to show that the boy had done nothing wrong. “Well, nice to meet you, Sèan! My name is Felix. And I think we're going to be friends.”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> intro to everyone's fav boi 
> 
> Merkimoo
> 
>  
> 
> btw me making the chapter summaries actual summaries for once? boi you THOUGHT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So... wow, I got a TON of positive feedback on the last chapter. Thank you all so much! Hopefully, I don't disappoint. I felt like every time I rewrote this chapter, I kept getting further and further away from portraying Mark properly (which is fine because this is honestly just a fanfic but whatever) so I hope it's fine. And if you're already missing Jackaboy, no worries, he'll be back (in person) in the next chapter.

In any other situation, the two probably would’ve been seen as friends. They were constantly running into each other, they met up almost every day, and the duo had become so well known that some people had started shipping them together. They even had cute nicknames for each other (Well, actually, he wasn’t sure if the other had a nickname for him, seeing as he refused to talk to him. Ever.).

 

Yes, they would probably would’ve been seen as friends, maybe even _would_ have been friends, if the blue-haired boy would just stop trying to kill Mark every time they met.

 

From his vantage point on top of a building across the street, Mark had the perfect view of the bank. He could see the front doors, which people occasionally left or went in through, the flowers set along the edge of the sidewalk leading to the parking lot, the bushes growing next to the wall on the other side of the building, and the figure crouched in said bushes, suspiciously doing something to the wall. From where he was, Mark could see him clearly, but the people passing by on the sidewalk nearby didn’t seem to notice.

 

“Do you see him? He’s still in the bushes lining the south wall,” a familiar voice crackled through his earpiece. Raking his fingers through his hair, Mark sighed. A bank robbery? Really? He gave up his night out for a bank robbery?

 

“Yeah, I see him,” he mumbled. “He’s trying to rob a bank, Mat! A _bank_. I feel like I’m back in my first year here. He hasn’t tried something so simple in all my time paired with him!”

 

“Hey!” another voice shouted in Mark’s ear, and he winced. “What was the point of establishing code-names if nobody ever uses them?”

 

Mark sighed. “Sorry. _MatPat_. Not Mat. If anyone hacked into this line, you didn’t hear me reveal anyone’s secret identity or anything.” Some static sounded in his ear, and Mark winced. “Hey, could you tell Keem to snap out of it? All I can hear is static.” Mat’s voice flickered back in, and Mark vaguely heard his voice yelling back at someone.

 

“Can you hear me now?” Mat tried. “Oh, sorry, I’ll be right back. Wa- I mean ‘Lord,’ _geez, you don’t need to glare at me like that, I used the code name,_ is heading out as well, and I need to fill him in.”

 

As Mat switched to another line, the other voice jumped back in, and Mark winced again as the loud voice almost shattered his eardrums. “The waves are getting tangled up; it’s not _my_ fault that you guys make me protect the line, too! You all could get radios, but _nooooo_ , let’s just let good old Keemstar here burn himself out sending all the airwaves _and_ connecting them to the right earpieces _and_ keeping everything perfectly protected!”

 

“Well, that’s kind of your job,” he heard Mat mutter, and then he groaned quietly. “Ugh, another headache is… give me a sec… Okay… switch me back to ‘Markiplier’ now.”

 

Mark straightened the the fake, pink mustache set beneath his nose, smoothed his uniform, and fixed the plain red mask he wore before nimbly sliding off the roof and landing lightly in the alleyway below. If he made this quick, he could probably convince Tyler to take him straight back home and turn in the report later. Provided traffic wasn’t too hectic, and if Amy hadn’t already started a new project, they just might be able to make it to their reservation after all. “Okay, I think I’m set. ‘Markiplier,’ signing out. Connect me back in… say, 10 minutes?”

 

“Are you sure? He looks like he has a couple new devices. I’m taking a closer look, right now, but you should probably- Wade look out!” the man suddenly screeched.

 

“ _Code names_!” the other voice shouted.

 

“He almost got shot, sorry for not worrying about identities when I’m telling someone to dodge what could have _killed_ them!”

 

“Thanks, but honestly, I think I’m good,” Mark added, once he was sure Mat was done focusing on whatever Wade had gotten himself into. “Worry about the others. How many people are even out right now?”

 

Mat sighed. “Wade, Thomas, Felix, and The Mythical Crew.”

 

“Oh. My gosh. _Code names_. Why do I even try with you?”

 

“Aren’t you protecting the line? I don’t see the point in...” Mat trailed off, then swore under his breath. “Guys, it’s _him_.”

 

Mark groaned internally. “Not again. It’s Dan’s turn with him, right?”

 

He heard Mat’s fingers nervously begin tapping on the tabletop. “Yeah. He’s going to need me the most right now, but…” Mark could picture Mat sitting in his regular, dimly-lit room, rubbing his temples as he tried to keep control of what he was doing. “...It actually hurts to be around _him_ , so I generally avoid doing it. It gets all... gitchy, for lack of a better term. I'm still trying to figure it out. I haven’t tried since last week  but...” There was a sharp intake of breath, and Mark heard Mat let it out shakily. “Dan, head to Washington again. Jon filled you in about last week, right? Yeah, same one. Good luck,” he heard him vaguely in the background, and then the voice was directed completely at him again. “Normally I’d be able to handle it all, but I’ve got a massive headache and I’m starting to…” The man groaned, and Mark winced in sympathy. “... Everywhere is starting to blend again. Hold on a sec…” In the background, he could hear him ask to switch him to someone else. Then, “No, no, no, Felix, _duck_ , dang it!”

 

Mark stretched, then finished off their conversation. “Yeah, good luck to you, man. Don’t burn yourself out again. Now disconnect me and help the others, for real this time.” The earpiece quieted as he was disconnected, and without the voices filling up his head, he finally had time to think about how he was going to approach this. Walking out of the alleyway and making his way across the street, throwing a wink at a couple people who were staring at him, he quietly made his way to the bushes without making too much noise. Then, throwing on his signature grin, he tried to relax his posture and greeted the villain.

 

“What is _up_ , my cranky crew?”

 

The man whirled around from where was currently laser-cutting a hole in the wall of the bank and shot him a glare, flipping him off with both hands. Mark returned the gesture with a smirk, then slowly sauntered up to lean against the wall next to the villain, who was still crouching next to the wall.

 

“Bank robbing, really? I thought you’d finally moved on from amateur hour, Cranky! I’m kinda disappointed… wait, what happened to the blue hair?” He paused, then grinned. “Aww, are you copying me again? Didn’t want to keep the dyed hair when the whole reason you got it decided to lose it too?”

 

The boy growled, and Mark could see that he was actually baring his teeth from the side of his mouth not covered in the metal mask. In an instant, he had grabbed his sword from where it was held onto his metallic arm and swung it at his head. Mark quickly moved, and the shining steel blade glanced off the bank’s cinder block walls with a clang. “Woah, hey, just because you’re jealous of my hair doesn’t mean you get to try and take off my head. Jerk.”

 

He supposed he shouldn’t be complaining. After all, Crank wasn’t necessarily the hardest villain he had fought in his 6 years of this career. The first duo he had fought, ‘Muy’-something-or-other (The man wasn’t even Mexican? The ‘Silver’ villain group chose really weird names, in Mark’s opinion) and the ‘Amazing Emo’ (... he really wasn’t good at remembering this stuff, he just remembered the dude had worn all black and had just decided to call him that), had only been a one-time group, but they were still pretty hard. Emo kid was hard enough without the other guy enhancing his powers.

 

The singer following them was pretty hard as well. Admittedly, his voice was beautiful, but it was difficult to enjoy the villain’s voice when it was yanking his emotions back and forth so rapidly that he couldn’t breathe. He shuddered at the thought, dodging another one of Crank’s swords as he backed them away from the bank where he could have more space, but still refusing to give the furious, metallic man his full attention. He continued reminiscing about his old pairings, going back again to the singer’s beautiful voice. He loved his job, but Sharp was one villain that he was glad he had been released from.

 

Then there was the Sexbang guy (unsurprisingly, the one name Mark _did_ remember) with his grumpy group or whatever (the other guys didn’t have such memorial names). That was followed by the infamous ChaoticMonki, who, now that he thought about it, he hadn’t heard anything about in a while. And he couldn’t really remember, but he was sure that one time he had been paired against a villain he thinks might’ve been named ’Yama’ or something.

 

And then there was good old Crank. Every since the villain's dramatic introduction in which Mark had accidentally misread his name as the now infamous ‘Cranky,’ everyone had simply known the metal-covered man as that. But even though the name obviously pissed him off, the villain had never voiced a concern to correct him. In fact, there was only one other time that the villain had tried to communicate with him, and he absentmindedly stroked his pink mustache in memory, then dodged another blow. Then again, none of these particular villains ever seemed to say anything. Except for Sharp, but he kinda had to in order to fight.

 

The technomagician (or was he a bionic physiologist? ...metal manipulatoral capability? Or was he actually a cyborg like Wade thought this entire time? A whole year and Mark knew practically nothing about the guy) brought him out of his thoughts as he swung at him once again. Sighing, Mark brought himself back to the present to give the angry man his full attention, pulling at the constant warmth in his stomach and feeling the familiar flicker of flames envelop his hands. Even though he hadn’t lost a fight to him yet, Crank was still a force to be reckoned with. Especially with- Mark’s eyes widened, and he ducked just as a bright beam of light shot right where his head had been, singing the wall of a building across the street. A powerful spray of white foam shot from the villain’s other hand caught him off guard, smothering him as he fell back onto the sidewalk. The tickling of the flames on his body extinguished immediately.

 

Usually, Mark would keep dodging the blows until their normally blue-haired boy tired himself out, but today was obviously not going to be one of those days. Sputtering, Mark wiped furiously at his eyes. Once he could see, he looked back at the singed wall, then back at the metal man. He just managed to roll to the side as another beam left a circular burn mark in the sidewalk where he had been standing. “Wait, when did you get the lasers? You didn’t have the lasers last time!” he sputtered, flicking some of the fire extinguishant off of his uniform. So, that’s what ‘new devices’ Mat was referring too. Maybe he should have given the man a few more moments to scope out the gear before disconnecting and jumping in. Pulling at the warmth inside him again, he frowned as no flames were pulled to the surface of his skin, being smothered immediately by the whiteness still covering him.

 

Well, this wasn’t good.

 

For the first time in the entire year Mark had been fighting him, he saw the ghost of a smile grace the half of the face that could be seen. The villain slowly walked towards the fallen man, raising his right hand towards him, palm open and glowing. The wind picked up around him, ruffling the villain’s now-brown hair, and the setting sun behind him silhouetted him perfectly. The sunset’s rays glinted off of the boy’s metallic appendages as his sword collapsed and he slid it into the slot in his arm with a barely audible ‘click.’ He heard the whirring of gears from the boy’s metal mask, and he imagined that the sensors he thought to be there were adjusting to the fast-fading light.

 

“Ah, come on dude! You know I’m stuck with just my flames until PewDiePie (Mark had to admit, he guessed the people he worked with didn’t exactly have the most normal names, either) gives me back my gun. Your Iron Man laser-hand rip-offs are totally unfair!” He held up his empty hands as proof, but the villain didn’t react. He didn’t seem to get the Iron Man reference, either, but Mark could understand that. The superhero craze had only caught on a decade before The New Era, yet some millionaire still decided to keep making comics, and eventually movies, even though superpowers were no longer something to be enthralled by since everyone basically had one. The Marvel and DC movies weren’t super popular, but Mark was an enthusiast of their respective universes, enjoying how the chosen actors brought together all of their kick-butt moves and capabilities with the amazing plots, wrapping it all together into the perfect movies that he loved.

 

There was another whirring sound, and Crank’s palm slowly began to light up with light blue light. Brushing some of the whiteness off of him, Mark glanced back up at the villain in slight alarm.

 

“Mark, in case you weren’t aware, you’re just sitting there. While he’s approaching you with glowing laser hands,” the earpiece clicked back on, and Mat’s voice came back through, sounding more tired than before.

 

“Stop wasting your energy focusing on me,” he shot back before rolling to the side, dodging the beam at the very last second. Trying once again, he pulled at the heat inside him, then grinned as he finally felt the flames erupt from his skin. Pushing himself off of the ground, he cracked his knuckles, then let the smile fall as he fell into the part of the job he hated.

 

Punch. Dodge. Duck. Uppercut. Punch again. Fire. Roundhouse kick. Drop. Roll. Ignore bruised ribs. Punch. Keep up the fire. Forearm block. Kick. Roll. Ignore pained look on villain’s face. Ignore pain. Ignore it. Punch. Block. Fire. Repeat.

 

It was necessary, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it in any way.

 

Breathing a bit heavier, he grimaced as he finally brought the villain to the ground. “The fire extinguisher stuff was ingenious,” Mark muttered offhandedly as he pulled Crank off the ground, keeping the villain in a loose choke-hold as he kept squirming to get another punch in. “I’ll have to find a way to combat that. And I don’t know how you managed it, but the lasers were pretty cool, too.” He felt a cool metal hand grab his leg, and Mark’s eyes widened. There was a bright flash, followed by the smell of burning fabric, and he jerked back. Crank fought his way out of the man’s hold and, faster than Mark could follow, was sprinting towards the apartments across the street, hand still glowing from the discharge of the laser he had just fired into the other man’s thigh. He scaled the walls, jumped over the roof’s ledge, and just like that, was gone.

 

“Did he get you?” Mat asked distractedly as Mark examined the hole in his pants, then shrugged and jogged back towards the alleyway he had started at.

 

“Surprisingly, yes. I’m going to need to repair my uniform.”

 

Mat groaned. “This is the third time this month, Mark. Did he not realize that he can’t burn you?”

 

Picking at the new hole, he prodded the unburned skin of his leg, then just shrugged again. “I don’t know. The lasers were actually really cool, though! He obviously put a lot of work into them; I didn’t want him to think they just went to waste!”

 

“Mark! You’re just encouraging him!”

 

The man just chuckled. “Whatever.”

 

“I’m serious. What if someone else had gotten caught in the blast? Someone without heatproof skin?”

 

Mark felt a glimmer of guilt at that, but he shrugged it off. “I made sure nobody else got hurt; isn’t that our primary objective? There wasn’t anybody around to even worry about, actually. Not even the cops showed up this time." He sighed, then stretched, grimacing as his ribs flared up in pain. "Anyway, I’d bring this up with you in person, but I have to clock out. I think my date night can still be salvaged.” Pulling out his phone from his pocket (he really wasn’t supposed to have it on him while on the job, but nobody had to know), he texted a friend a quick request to pick him up, then shoved it back into his pocket.

 

Mat sighed. “As long as you keep that in mind. I know Felix gets a kick out of your interactions with your pairings, but if it puts anyone in danger....”

 

“Okay, okay, whatever you say. Oh, and before I forget… is Dan…?”

 

The other man let out a breath. “ _He_ was gone before Dan even got there, so nobody got hurt. Unusual, but I don’t think we need to look into it.” There was a pause, and then, “Have a great night, Mark.”

 

“You too, Mat.” And with a click, the earpiece lost the signal. Turning around, he found himself face to face with the curly brown-haired man he had just texted. “Tyler!” he greeted the man with a grin.

 

“Mark,” the man responded, sounded a lot less happy. Looking pointedly at the cut on Mark’s arm, as well as his bruised cheek, he kept his sullen gaze up as his friend just dismissed the injuries.

 

“It’s nothing. Anyway, mind taking a detour and taking me straight back to my apartment?”

 

With a huff, Tyler grabbed Mark’s upper arm, and in an instant, they were standing in the entryway of Mark’s apartment. From the corner of his eye, he saw his golden-hair dog perk up, then run over to greet the two men.

 

“And for future reference,” Tyler added as he stepped away, letting Mark kneel down to scratch Chica behind her ears, “‘that one alleyway where I almost died’ is not a specific enough location. I literally went through half the city before I got to you.” He was a pause, and then, “And you might want to ice that cheek before it swells. Amy'd freak out if she finds out that you got hurt again and I didn't at least tell you to maintain basic self care.” Mark rolled his eyes before turning back to fawn over his doggo.

 

“Sorry, I’ll try to be more specific next time,” he said jokingly. “And no, ew, you know what the cold does to me. Plus, we all know that Amy isn’t scared when I get minorly hurt; she just teases me about ‘getting old and slow.’ More disappointed than freaked.” He smirked slightly. "If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you actually _cared_ about me.”

 

Tyler just rolled his eyes. “Not a chance.” And with that, he had teleported away again. Mark just laughed, then turned headed back to his room to change.

 

He had a date to get ready for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I've never used parenthesis in my writing before but this chapter has like a bazillion of them? I don't know what happened? 
> 
> Anyway, I'll be trying to update every Wednesday, alternating between Jack and Mark. So if you're still giving this a try, but only like how I write one of them or whatever, at least every other week might be something good :)
> 
> Also, sorry if it's a bit rough. I am my own editor or beta-reader or whatever and am extremely bad at my job. Whoopsies.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Séan is doing okay... until he really isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was going to be a happy chapter but then something happened
> 
> tw for panic attack

**_“On August 6, 1945, disaster struck. In an effort to end the second World War as quickly and efficiently as possible, the United States of America decided to implement a new weapon that they had been designing, testing, and had succeeded in deploying in the July of the same year: The Atomic Bomb. Unfortunately, while the bomb had worked as planned, there were side effects that the scientists working on the “Manhattan Project” did not fully investigate until strange reports from the later totaled cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki came to their notice.”_ **

**_“Once examining those caught in the nuclear blast, the side effects manifested themselves, not only in the strange behavior exhibited by those affected, but in the DNA of the people as well. These side effects, now known more commonly as “Capabilities,” would lead to a rise of fear across the world; a fear that still exists today, though not quite as destructive as it was in the aftermath of the first discovery of the many “Capabilities.” The radiation’s effect spread across the planet, and the world was at a standstill as panic overtook the nations, nobody being able to do anything to stop or contain it.”_ **

**_“Though it’s been more than 70 years since the ‘New Era’ had begun, and every human, and even some animals, now demonstrate some kind of Capability, whether powerful or not, the fear of these ‘unnatural, demonic powers,’ as the ACC's have dubbed them, still remains, and may never go away. In relation to this view, suppression of capabilities, though rather uncomfortable, has not been proven to pose a threat to the body and is practiced by groups such as the ACC (Anti-Capability Committee) and other various religious groups (see: Chapter 44, section 6, “Johannes vs Christianity: The Suppression Controversy of 2003”)...”_ **

_Séan jumped slightly as Felix slammed his textbook closed. “Boooooorinngggg,” he complained, leaning back in his chair and throwing an arm over his face dramatically. Peeking out at their teacher, he made sure he had gotten Karim's attention before resuming his theatrics. “We know all of this stuff already. Can we move onto the practice now?” he asked eagerly. The boy bounced up and down in his chair slightly, and Séan was surprised he wasn’t vibrating from all of the extra energy the boy always seemed to have._

_The Irish boy had been here for a month now, and even though he had become close friends with the boy and spent practically every day together, Felix's casualness, and sometimes near disrespect of their teacher surprised him. And though he did agree with his friend's statement about knowing all of this stuff already, since it really was just basic history, he still wasn’t going to just flat out disregard the teacher. Though, by Karim’s smile and eye roll, he knew the teacher didn’t really care._

_The boy was just glad that he had gotten over flinching at every time Felix had joked like this around the older man, expecting the two of them to be disciplined. But thanks to Karim’s gentle reassurance that it was all in good fun, and that he didn’t believe in doing things that way, he was slowly becoming less and less jumpy, to the relief of both of the other two._

_Their teacher paused, weighing his options in his mind. "Fine... I guess we can put off history and move onto practice. Let's move to the gymnasium."_

_Setting the textbook down on the couch (Felix had convinced Karim that, since it was just him and Séan at the moment, it wasn't necessary for them to use all of the classrooms at their disposal and that the comfortable couches in the living area would be fine), Séan followed the two others out of the room, passing the many unopened doors in the long hallway. Apparently, the building had used to be a school of some sort (and it was very big, so the boy was guessing a college campus) that their teacher had re-purposed for... whatever he was doing. Séan hadn't exactly asked either Karim or Felix exactly what their end goal was yet, and they seemed content to let him ask when he was ready, but he had a couple of suspicions._

_In a flash, Felix had opened the doors to the huge gymnasium and was excitedly waving them inside. "Come on, we don't have all day!"_

_Keeping a less erratic pace, Karim stayed in step next to the quieter boy as they walked through the open doors._

_"So... Séan, would you like us to continue with you, or...?_

_"Nah, Felix can go first," Séan replied._

_"Perfect. Looks like he has a lot of energy to burn before he'll be any use for discussions."_

_"Sweet! So, what am I doing this time?" the boy asked excitedly, grabbing Karim's hand and him further into the room._

_"I think we'll just do the usual. We're going to be focusing on your strengths versus weaknesses this time, so speed is key, here." Explaining the exercise to the boy, he answered a couple of his questions, then took a step back. "Are you ready?"_

_In a flash, the Swede was standing at the other end of the gymnasium. Flashing the teacher a thumbs up, he grinned._

_Pulling out a stopwatch, the teacher counted down loudly, then put a hand on Séan's shoulder to hold him back as a flash of blue shot past them, blowing both of the guy's hair, as well as a few papers from Karim's clipboard, to the side._

_Séan just watched, still awestruck at the other's amazing speed, even though he had seen it in action countless times before. Just barely being able to follow the blue streak of Felix's hoodie, he watched as his vibrating form seemed to stop at one area, limbs blurring as he finished the task, then shot off to the other side of the room for the next one._

_There was a moment where he stumbled, and the Irishman grimaced slightly as the other turned it into a shoulder roll, back on his feet in almost a split second. Tugging on his teacher's sleeve, Séan motioned for the stopwatch. Karim complied, showing the boy the screen. Thirty seconds left if Felix wanted to break his record._

_As the other ran to the final task, Séan found himself bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly. The Swede had the last part completed in seconds, and in an instant, was rushing back to the 'finish line.' As the blur passed them, the Irishman grinned. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he screamed (encouragingly) at the top of his lungs._

_"Come on Felix! SPEEEEEEED IS KEEEEEEEYYYYYY!"_

_The streak of blue stopped, and Felix stumbled to a stop in front of the two, breathing heavily as covering his ears jokingly. He looked up at his friend, smirking. "Dude, are you sure that your capability isn't shattering everybody's eardrums? I didn't know someone usually so quiet could be so loud!"_

_The shorter boy blushed slightly. "Uh... sorry?"_

_Cutting off the boys banter, their teacher scribbled something on his clipboard excitedly. "You've improved on your previous time! Shaved off a whole 5 seconds!" Holding up the stopwatch proudly, Karim pulled the Swede into a side-hug. "Well done."_

_The boy just grinned. "I know."_

_"Braggart," the teacher replied fondly, messing up Felix's hair._

_"Nerd!"_

_"Weirdos," _Séan muttered under his breath.__

__"Hey!"_ _

_Running a hand through his hair, their teacher looked at his clipboard, then back up at the two boys. "Shall we practice with another test, or should we continue onto Séan's training."_

_"Yeah! Let's do his!" Felix said excitedly, literally bouncing up and down with unused energy._

_"...Are you sure?" Karim replied, skeptically. "You look like you have a lot more energy to burn."_

_"But I wanna see what he can do!"_

_"I... I still don't know," Séan mumbled, looking down. "Sorry."_

_"And that is completely fine," his teacher reassured him. "We aren't going to push it; it's supposed to manifest itself naturally."_

_“Bro, whatever your power is, it’s gonna be awesome! Besides, Mr. Karim says that he knows this guy, and he said that he could tell how powerful someone is and that when he found you-”_

_“Felix, I think we can talk about that later,” their teacher cut in. “I think it’s best to just let things happen naturally and not raise up high expectations for anything, okay?”_

_The boy nodded, then turned back to his friend and continued. “And besides, because you don’t know, the whole thing is wide open to you! I’m stuck with the heightened senses thing or whatever that capability category is called..."_

_"It's almost like we were learning about it, but someone decided it was 'too boring,' so we skipped it!"_

_The Swede stuck out his tongue at his teacher before continuing. "But you… You could be a super strong! Or a manipulator! Or maybe even an elemental!” His eyes widened, and his voice dropped down to an excited whisper. “What if you were the second immortal?”_

_Séan scratched his neck awkwardly. “Would you really want to live forever, though? Everyone you know, dying around you... leaving you behind because nobody else is as stuck in this world as you are...”_

_The Swede quieted, then shrugged. “Yeah, I guess that would suck. I wouldn't wanna leave poor lil Séany boy all by himself." Ruffling the shorter boy's hair, he smiled as the younger giggled. "What about, like, flying or something? Actually, just what would you want to have? Like, if you could choose?”_

_“I dunno… I guess flying would be sorta cool, maybe? But I don't... like heights… I dunno,” the boy trailed off, looking back down at his scuffed sneakers and shrugging._

_As their teacher walked to the other side of the large gym to look through some filing cabinets that had been randomly jumbled into the corner, Felix dropped down to a sitting position. "Yeah, you didn't really seem like a flyer," he remarked. Then his eyes lit up. "What if you were fast like me? That'd be awesome!"_

_"Yeah... but I think I'd rather have teleportation. What's the point of running really fast if you could just get to where you want to go instantly?"_

_"Are you saying that my power is pointless?" the other screeched dramatically. The boys stared at each other, and then both promptly dissolved into giggles._

_Their teacher smiled slightly to himself from across the room, then left to go do some more research on their next student. The boys would probably make more progress on their own, if not in breaking through to Séan's capability, then helping the boy feel more comfortable here. It was no secret to him that the Irish boy felt more comfortable around the Swede than he had felt around anyone in a long time, and he didn't want to ruin that. The boys' laughs echoed down the room as Séan jokingly dissed Felix's powers, and Karim smiled again as he let the door shut behind him and headed down the hall._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_“Oh... my gosh,” Felix said through a giggle. Séan tried to stifle his own, but soon he was full-out laughing alongside his friend. They had been there for over an hour now, but between Felix's jokes and Séan's sense of finally just feeling okay, the Irish boy wasn't bored in the slightest._

_"It... It's t-true," he managed to choke out between bouts of laughter. There was a minute of full-out laugh-crying, and as they finally began to calm down, they looked at each other and found themselves laughing again._

_Finally calming down for real, he turned to look at the Swede, who was shooting him his signature grin. “Bro, you're hilarious!”_

_Ducking his head down slightly from the compliment, Séan smiled to himself slightly, then peeked to see the boy holding out his fist towards him._

_Instantly, his breath caught in his throat, and he choked. Squeezing his eyes closed, he tried not to flinch away from the inevitable as he was instantly transported back to_ the _house. He found himself stumbling backward, a small squeak escaping his lips as he bumped against the wall, and he found himself pressing back into it as far as he could._

 _“Séan… Séan?” the voice said, and the boy pressed back farther, refusing to open his eyes to see_ him _, to see the surroundings he knew so well._ The _voice kept chanting his name, and as he felt something touch his arm, he found himself hitting the ground in an effort to just get_ him _off, to get away get awaygetawaygetawaystoptouchinghim…_

 _He heard heavier footsteps run up, and another voice joined the voice. But… it wasn’t_ his _voice._

 _“S-Séan… Mr. K-Karim what’s w-w-wrong with him did I do s-something wrong I was j-j-just trying to f-fist bump him a-and is he g-going to b-be okay is he h-hurt what d-d-did I do?” The accent wasn’t_ the _thick Irish one. It was higher in pitch. It was a kid’s voice. And even through the uncharacteristic stuttering, stumbling over words, and emotionally thickened accent, Séan could finally tell who it was._

 _“Felix,” Séan breathed out in relief. He still couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes, just in case he was wrong, that he really was back_ there _, that this had all been a dream, but he let himself calm down just enough to focus on what was going on._

_Noticing the aching in his chest, he realized that he hadn’t taken a breath in a while. Struggling to suck air in, he choked on it again, then finally managed a short, cut off breath. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, and he tasted salt. His face was wet with tears; he hadn’t noticed that before._

_“Yes, it’s Felix,” he heard his teacher’s voice say calmly. “It’s just me and Felix. Can I touch you?” Séan couldn’t bring himself to answer. He wanted the warmth of someone, he wanted something to ground himself he wanted it he wantedit hewanteditheneededit but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t feel the touch right now. “That’s fine, that’s fine, just focus on what you can feel around you. Now, I need you to take some breaths, okay?”_

_Finally, the boy had the courage to open his eyes a bit. He was lying on the floor, half propped up against the wall. Karim was kneeling in front of him, hand slightly held up as if he was doing all he could to stop himself from wrapping up the boy in a hug. Over his shoulder, the boy caught the sight of Felix sitting on the ground, eyes red, puffy, and opened fearfully as he stared at Séan. Pushing himself up more against the wall, so that he was sitting with his back to it, he pulled his knees up to his chest and closed his eyes again, focusing on getting air into his lungs. The boy struggled to take in another breath, still hyperventilating as tears kept streaming down his cheeks. “Breathe in for 4 counts, okay? Do you want me to count, or…” Pushing himself onto his knees, Séan reached out blindly and grabbed the front of Karim’s button up, needing a hold on something in this reality._

_“Good, that’s good, that’s fine, that’s good,” his teacher mumbled under his breath. Putting a hand over Séan’s, he gently pressed on the boy’s hand so that it was flat against his chest. “Can you feel my heartbeat?” The boy tried to focus on the warm, subtle beat under his fingers, and he managed a quiet noise of confirmation. “Okay, breathe along to the beat, alright? Breathe in-2-3-4. Good, now hold-2-3-4-5-6-7. Out-2-3-4-5-6-7-8. Perfect, you’re doing wonderfully. Again. In for 4…”_

_Once the boy’s breathing had slowed down to where he wasn’t gasping for every breath, he finally cracked open his eyes again. Looking up nervously, he caught Karim’s gentle gaze, then snapped his eyes back downwards again._

_“...h-hurt?” He wanted to say more, but that was all he could manage in his disorientated state._

_“Nobody here is going to hurt you,” Karim said quietly. “And if anybody wanted to, we wouldn’t allow it. You are safe here, Séan.”_

_The boy flinched back at that, but then took another calming breath and moved onto the next question thundering through his mind. “Is… Felix… o-okay?” he managed to get out before choking on his breath again._

_“F-Felix?” For the only time either of the boys had heard him, Karim stuttered in fear as he snapped around. Lightly keeping Séan’s hand on his chest, he looked back in concern at the tear-streaked face of the boy behind him. “I-I’m sorry, I was so focused on…”_

_Without warning, the Swedish boy leaped forward, stopping himself next to the other boy’s side. “I’m s-so sorry,” he choked out. “I d-didn’t- I swear I didn’t m-mean to do a-any of that I swear I didn’t want to h-h-hurt you…” He looked conflicted about his closeness to the other boy, clearly not wanting to touch him in and pull him back into whatever he had just brought himself out of, rocking back and forth on his knees as he rubbed at the tears on his cheeks._

_Luckily, he didn’t have to debate what to do any longer, as Séan pulled his hand away from Karim’s chest and turned to wrap his arms around Felix. “It w-wasn’t your fault…” he choked out. “D-Don’t cry… y-you… nothing wrong… I’m… I’m messed… m-mess up….” he managed to breath out, starting to hyperventilate again as he pressed his face into the Swede’s shoulder. Felix wrapped his arms tightly around the boy, switching their position so that he was the one holding the other._

_“You’re not m-messed up, it’s n-not your fault,” he whispered into the other’s ear._

_“Felix is right. You are not messed up, Séan.” The boy whimpered and pressed himself deeper into his friend’s embrace. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this. No 8 year old should have to deal with this, being completely honest, but we can work through it. We’re all a little broken, but we can be fixed. Can’t we, Felix?”_

_The boy nodded slightly, chin resting on top of the smaller boy’s head. Their eyes connected, and he offered a small smile before returning back to gently rubbing the other’s back._

_“Perhaps it would be better for us to attempt to differentiate this current lifestyle with the one you grew up in,” Karim said quietly, moving to sit closer to the two boys. Back resting against the wall, he gently put a hand on the boy’s back as a sign of comfort. “If you could maybe think about what might trigger these panic attacks, we could try to avoid them,” Karim continued. “Does that sound okay, Séan?”_

_“Jack,” the boy blurted out before he could stop himself._

_“What?”_

_“D-Don’t… only they called me... m-my ma called me Jack.”_

_“Jack,” Felix tried it out, and the other boy nodded slightly into his chest. “I like it,” he reassured him quietly, stroking his mussed hair._

_“Jack,” Karim repeated. Slowly, he nodded. “If you’d prefer we call you that, then we will. Whatever we can do to help you, Jack.”_

_Jack kept his face buried in Felix's chest, not wanting to look and see the other's faces. But feeling his friend's arms around him, as well as the comforting touch on his back, he felt almost okay again._

_His shaking subsided as his grip on Felix's shirt relaxed. As his breathing slowed, his eyes fluttered closed, and in a moment the troubled Irishman had fallen asleep._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Yeah, I don't know if the portrayal of my attempted writing of a panic attack was accurate. Just basing it off what I know. So... sorry if it was wrong in any way. And I'm so sorry if all of this stuff feels unnecessary; I promise we get more into the plotsy stuff in the next chapters. And if you realize that I'm not really portraying Jack right or whatever, I promise he's gonna be the bubbly, energetic bean we all know and love in chapters to come... maybe. I dunno. But thank you for reading! 
> 
> Also this was written in a hurry so it's not very good but hey I tried lol. Just had to get through this before I could get into the other chapters I already have written out. Feel free to point out mistakes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyler is just done with everyone, and both Mark and Felix find that absolutely hilarious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyy no worries i'm still alive and have NOT yet abandoned this story! 
> 
> (honestly I'm still surprised that I stuck with my 'update scheduled' for even three chapters tho so like kudos to me)
> 
> BUUUUT basically i was busy and low-key sick and lost all motivation to do anything so I just left this half-written chapter in my docs until i randomly decided to finish this at 1 in the morning with an impending ACT test in 6 hours for no reason whatsoever
> 
> honestly, not my best work. i'll probably redo this later. but for now, enjoy some randomness that seemed to make sense in my sleep-deprived brain at 1 in the morning but probably won't when i read this tomorrow morning and think 'wtf did i post this last night?'

“Well, Mark, I don’t know what you did…”

Mark was trying to keep a straight face, but on the inside, he was dying. His side ached in protest as he tried to stop the laughter welling up inside him, but seeing Tyler’s face over Felix’s shoulder made it nearly impossible. Covering up the laugh with a cough, he cleared his throat and turned his attention back to his friend and semi-boss.

“... but you obviously did something right. The villain you’ve been assigned to hasn’t been seen or shown up on our radar in almost two weeks.”

Tyler looked like he was going to lose it, and Mark coughed again to cover a chuckle. “Just doing my job, sir,” he added with a small smirk.

Felix rolled his eyes. “Okay, let’s drop the professional talk. What the heck did you do to poor Cranky? If you killed him and, by default, killed Crankiplier, I’m going to have to fire you for sinking my fav ship.”

“...I hate you.”

Felix just smirked. “Thought I’d miss the tweet featuring that ‘PewDieCry’ fanart on your regular account this morning, didn’t you? I’m just returning the favor.”

“Hey, Amy doesn’t make the requests, she just fulfills them!” Brushing some stray strands of hair out his eyes, he smirked before adding, “But it was rather tasteful, wouldn’t you say?”

“I could fire you.”

“You love me too much.”

“You’re fired. I want your desk cleared by 2 pm.”

“You haven't given me an office, let alone a desk, Felix.”

"Maybe because you don't deserve it, du jävla idiot."

“Fight me.”

"You know I'd win."

Tyler just rolled his eyes in the background as Mark finally cut off the joking. “ _Obviously_ , I'd win, but whatever. The point is, I didn’t even lay a finger on Crank! Him being gone or whatever isn't my fault in the slightest. And besides, shouldn't you be thanking me for ridding the city of that totally-copying-my-hairstyles-because-he-thinks-it-makes-him-look-cooler villain?”

Felix looked pointedly at the television above his desk. “...In other news, no word has been heard of the infamous criminal known as ‘Crank,’ who frequents the LA area, ever since he was apprehended by the masked vigilante known as ‘Markiplier’ in the streets of the city two weeks ago.” The visual cut from the reporter to shaky phone footage of Mark taking the villain to the ground.

“...Didn’t lay a finger on him, I see…”

“I meant more than usual!”

“Then what the f...heck happened? Yeah, it's great and all that another villain seems to be gone for a while, but I find it hard to believe that your not-so-blue-boy just ‘gave up’ his villainous ways. None of the ‘Silver’ group ever just ‘takes a vacation’ for this long! Well... I mean, besides the obvious exceptions.”

Skipping over half of what his kinda-boss had said, Mark just rolled his eyes. “It’s just me. You don’t have to use the “Family-Friendly Felix” pretense.”

“But I wouldn’t want to scar those oh-so-innocent ears of yours, Markimoo. Besides, I don’t want to encourage another incident like the ‘glasses’ controversy. I almost got killed for that.”

“I couldn't find my mask, and the glasses were the only thing I could find that covered my eyes! Isn’t that the only requirement for the dress code here besides the standard-issue masks?”

“... Mark, the glasses wouldn't have been an issue if they hadn't had ‘ASS’ written on them. The parents absolutely hated you.”

“Hey, I saved that kid’s life! What’s going to traumatize him more, being killed, or seeing me wearing the coolest sunglasses in the history of humanity?”

“Mark helped Crank get away from the cops!” Tyler blurted out, cutting off the men’s banter. “And I swear I had nothing do with it!” He paused, and then added, “Well, yeah, technically, I did... but it was unintentional!”

Felix leaned back in his chair, smirking slightly. "Is that so, Markle-Sparkle?" Putting his hands behind his head, he kicked his feet up on his desk dramatically. "Well, I've got at least 5 minutes before the inevitable city-wide crisis starts up again. Sounds like you've got another interesting story to tell."

~~~~~~

“Okay Cranks, you have a choice here,” Mark muttered, shifting slightly so that his weight wasn’t completely on the man under him. “I have a friend coming to pick me up in about ten seconds. Either I can take you with me, or I can leave you here to be taken care of. Your choice. Stay down for option one, throw me off for option two.”

There were quiet clicks as the cops surrounding them cocked their guns, pointing the weapons at the two men surrounded by them. “Stationed at the intersection, both surrounded. Guns at the ready,” the lead cop narrated into his walkie-talkie, gun still trained on Mark’s figure.

“You can proceed,” a voice crackled through the device in response, and the lead officer nodded before hooking the walkie-talkie back into his belt and returning the empty hand to the handle of the pistol.

There was a second of pause in the metal man’s struggles as he seemed to ponder Mark’s offer, and the officers surrounding them looked confused. But almost immediately Crank began to struggle again, although Mark could tell that he didn’t mean it. The metallic villain was strong enough to throw him off, that was a fact that Mark was well aware of. He must’ve just been trying to keep up a tough-guy-never-goes-down-without-a-fight facade or something.

“Mark… what are you doing?” he heard Mat's voice crackle through his earpiece.

Ignoring the other, Mark stared down the lead officer, whom he had run into so many times that he had begun affectionately referring to as “Shooty” due to his quickness to draw his gun and frequent threats to shoot Mark whenever they met.

“C’mon man. At this point, you know I’m not going to try any funny business.”

“City’s orders, not mine,” ‘Shooty’ replied in a programmed fashion, gun moving down slightly to point at the still half-heartedly struggling villain. “Please just let us do our job for once, or I’ll be forced to take immediate action.”

“Yeah, come on, man. At this point, we legit do nothing but dish out speeding tickets and playing ping-pong at the station; it’s getting super boring!” another voice called from the side, and Shooty shot a quick glare at another officer before focusing back on Mark.

“Mark…” Mat’s voice crackled in his ear again as a warning that he should hurry up with whatever he was planning.

“Just tell ‘Apocalypto’ to come pick me up, please? Good ol’ rooty-tootie point-’n-shooty looks like he actually wants to ‘take immediate action’ on me this time,” Mark whispered back, cutting the other man off. There was a rush of air, and he felt someone grab his upper arm before he was dragged backwards. He just managed to keep his hold on the villain’s shoulder as their surroundings changed in a blink and they found themselves in Mark’s apartment.

“Mark... what... what the hell?” Gasping for breath as he looked wide-eyed at the metallic villain, Tyler dropped Mark's arm. “I was supposed to pick you up, not..." Finally stabilizing his breathing, he continued. "Not your villain, too!”

Mark rolled his eyes. “‘Markiplier.’ Codenames for present company… even though it’s slightly pointless now, thanks. And why did you bring us back to my apartment?”

“Well, I wasn’t aware we’d have a villain in tow, and you always tell me to take you back here!”

Mark cut him off with a wave of his hand, tilting his head pointedly at the now nervous-looking villain getting to his feet. He felt Crank jerk away from him, stumbling away from the two and backing into Mark’s couch. The mustached man just sighed. “Okay, okay, whatever. Just get us out of here.”

Tyler glared at him, but put his hand on Mark’s shoulder. And before the villain could react, Mark had grabbed his hand and pulled him along with them. He blinked, and they were in the alleyway next to his apartment.

Sighing, the mustached vigilante shrugged. “I guess this will do.” Letting go of the villain’s hand, he stepped back and stared Crank down.

“You didn’t destroy anything, or anyone, this time...” he began as the villain stumbled backwards into the alley wall.

“Because you stopped him before he had the chance,” Tyler muttered under his breath.

Mark shushed him before turning back to the villain, shrugged to feign nonchalance, but keeping his guard up in case he tried to attack Tyler. “So… kinda-sorta, you didn’t really do anything wrong.”

“... _because you_ _stopped him before he had the chance_ …”

Mark turned, putting a finger to his lips and shushing his friend again in an almost comedic manner. Adjusting the pink mustache absentmindedly, he winked. “Just let me do my job.”

“But you’re _not_ doing your job; that’s the point!” Tyler all but screeched in a mixture of confusion, annoyance, and maybe a small bit or terror.

“Yeah, that’s the thing. I’m only supposed to stop the villains. But he didn’t really do anything villainous or whatever today so it's honestly whatever, let’s just go.”

“He didn’t because _you stopped him_.”

“Anyway, see ya Cranky, buh bye.” Waving at the confused looking villain, he stepped back and linked his arm through Tyler’s, watching as the scenery suddenly changed from the alleyway back to his apartment. His friend immediately fell back onto the couch, once again breathing heavily.

“Well, that was a lot harder than it had to be,” Mark mussed, ripping off the red mask and pink mustache. Turing to toss them on the counter, he froze as he caught his friend’s glare.

“What… the hell? Mark, what was that?” Sighing, he ran his fingers through his curly hair, pulling off the beanie he had been wearing. “Today was a long day: Pixel almost killed me _again_ when I was dropping off Minx and Krism, I had to teleport to all four corners of the city to pick up all of Cozart after his mission, Chica ate something weird at the park and started vomiting everywhere so I had to teleport her to the vet as fast as humanly possible, and just when I'm about done playing the role of everyone's glorified taxi-cab, I have to come here and deal with all of this crap?”

“Wait, Chica-”

“Mark!” Tyler put his face in his hands, massaging his temples. “Long day, my turn to talk, I deserve it. Basically, the point is, I’m absolutely exhausted. I’ve got a killer headache and I feel like I just ran a marathon with both you and Wade on my back. So next time you’re doing who knows what with your villain, because honestly _what the hell just happened_ , you’re finding your own way out of it. Okay?” Finishing his mini-rant, the curly-haired man looked up to see the other still staring at him, eyes wide in horror.

“...Wait but is Chica-”

“Mark, she’s _fine_ , okay? It was just some rotten something-or-other, the vet said she was going to be fine. Amy just took her for a walk; she’s not going to die. ”

Visibly relaxing, Mark played with the red felt in his hands. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry.” Looking up, he locked eyes with his childhood friend. “Like, seriously, I am. I didn’t realize you had such a rough day. I do appreciate you helping me out, though, even though it tired you out and did potentially put you at a risk. Like, it really means a lot. I honestly don’t know why you’re still my friend, but I’m glad you haven’t dumped me quite yet.”

Tyler smirked slightly. “Don’t worry, I’ll at least have the common courtesy to only dump you once I get a better friend.”

“Ha! Explains why we’ve been friends so long; it’s pretty hard to find someone better than me!”

“Nah, you’ve just set the bar so low that it’s difficult to pick with all of my options.”

“ _Ouch_ , my pride.”

The banter continued, both men going back and forth as they both relaxed on the couch. After joking around for a bit longer, the conversation died down to a comfortable silence.

“...Hey, Mark, can I ask an actual question?” Tyler finally asked, breaking the silence.

Mark shrugged, turning on the couch to face him. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“...Why do you never take them in? And not just you, everyone at that stupid agency you work for. I know this is just a part-time thing for me, but I pick up on stuff. And every time I take someone somewhere, they never come back with a villain. You guys could probably team up on them one at a time, and stop them bit by bit so you wouldn’t have to be repeatedly fighting them all the time. Even the cops get close, and combined they don’t have half the power that you guys have. So… why don’t you?”

“Well…” Mark trailed off, then sighed, looking down at the ground. Against his better judgement, Tyler leaned in slightly, curious to hear how his friend would respond to his question.

“The truth is… we’ve _never_ thought of arresting them. Or teaming up. Or imprisoning them in any way. Ever. _Never_. Just fighting them. We’re a bunch of idiots.”

Both of the men sat in silence. A silence that was promptly broken by Tyler punching his friend’s arm. “Hey, ow!” Mark complained.

“Idiot.”

“What? ‘We’re just really bad at our jobs’ isn’t believable?”

“All the excuses in the world, and that’s the bull you try to feed me?”

“It’s the truth! 100%. You’re a genius. I’ll bring it up with HR right away.”

“If meeting with your ‘boss’ has taught me anything, it’s that you guys have no actual structure to your ‘company,’ let alone an actual Human Resources department.”

And just like that, they were back to the lighthearted joking again, Tyler jabbing at Mark’s job, with Mark defending it… or agreeing with it. It really depended on what (or who) was being talked about.

Amidst all of the joking, Tyler’s question was forgotten.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Felix- _no, no you can not give him a pay raise for that_ \- it honestly wasn’t even that funny, not to mention he didn’t even do his job!”

Gasping for air, the Swede looked at the curly-haired man again before dissolving into laughter again. Shooting an exasperated look at Mark, Tyler threw his hands up. “I don’t see what’s so funny about this! You blatantly disregarded your job! _You let the villain get away_! And now he’s giving you a raise?”

Finally calming down, Felix pointed at Mark. “Let it be known that the comment was a joke and that you are not actually getting a raise. If anyone’s getting a raise, it should be me.”

“...Dude, _you’re_ the boss, _you_ control how much-”

“-And it wasn’t what Mark did; I could care less about that.” The Swede continued. “It was your _facial_ _expressions_! Scheid, I’ve never seen you with, like, _any_ , emotion, but when he was telling what happened…” He cracked up again. “I’ve _never_ seen anyone pull off looking disappointed, pissed off, and confused simultaneously!”

Tyler threw his hands up in exasperation. “How have you guys not gotten yourselves killed yet?” he muttered to himself before walking out the door, leaving the two laughing men in the office behind him.

He needed a raise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...yeah, not my best. But it's... something! I published something! Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out, but hopefully I can get back into the swing of things and start writing some QUALITY CONTENT maybe. I've got big plans for this story! If only I can get my writing skills to cooperate.... But honestly thank you all so much for the kudos and comments; you all are such amazing people! All of your kind words never fail to brighten my day! Like, seriously, if you gave this a chance, thank you. You're awesome.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack finally confirms his suspicions about what he's gotten himself into

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to take a moment to thank you all so much for your support on this simple story, because it's been overpowering. Like, seriously, even just getting kudos means a lot to me, but the comments some people are leaving almost make me burst from happiness. I'm always open to constructive criticism, but literally every comment has been super nice and complimentary. So I just wanted to thank you all, whether you left a kudo or a comment or not, for giving this a try!
> 
> Also, I realized that in the only two chapters I refer to him as 'Seán' instead of 'Jack,' I spelled the name wrong, with the accent over the 'e' in 'Séan' as opposed to the correct way, with the accent over the 'a' as in 'Seán.' Kinda a small mistake, and I'm too lazy to go back and redo it right now, but in case that bugged anyone, I know I screwed up lol

_“...Superheroes?” Jack questioned tentatively as Felix hopped from one foot to the other excitedly._

_“Yup!” the other said, beaming as he watched his friend process what he had heard. Though he had been respectful of his mentor’s wishes to wait until Jack was ready to ask about what they were doing, he had obviously been waiting to tell the other for a while._

_“Well, not exactly,” Karim cut in, putting a hand on the over-excited Swede’s shoulder. “I think that the goal is being more of a ‘vigilante’ than a ‘superhero.’ I decided to start this program with the purpose of helping others with our… well, slightly more powerful capabilities. And I don’t mean to degrade others by saying that; it’s just the truth. Typically, an average person ranks at a 5 on the typical 1-10 CP scale, the 9-year-old category Felix is in being realistically ranked at an average 2-4 range, considering that they don’t have complete control over their powers at the time. Felix, however, ranks at an 8, even taking into consideration that he doesn’t have full control over his powers yet. He’s probably more of a 9, which, again, is leagues above even most adults.”_

_“Superheroes,” Felix whispered with a wink to Jack, suddenly appearing on the couch next to the shorter boy._

_Karim smiled slightly. “Okay, maybe that is a more glorified term to describe what I had in mind. But I hope you are seeing my point.”_

_Jack played with the sleeves of his blue hoodie, which Felix had given to him after his first attack, claiming that it was ‘super comfy’ and made him feel more safe and grounded. It was a little large on the smaller boy, but Jack absolutely loved it and wore it whenever he could. It had become a staple in his wardrobe, and though he had been offered other choices, he still liked the large blue one the best because it had come from Felix, and it being the first gift he had gotten._

_“But… uh, aren’t superheroes… like…” The Irish boy motioned with his hands as he tried to come up with a word to summarize what he was trying to say, but gave up to instead to play with the hoodie’s drawstrings._

_“... Powerful? Strong?” Karim supplied, and Jack shrugged, then nodded. “Which is exactly why I don’t use that word. Because you don’t have to be some super strong person to help people.”_

_“I’m powerful and strong,” Felix muttered under his breath jokingly._

_“Well, I think we all are in our own ways,” Karim continued. “But, again, that is why I prefer vigilante. It doesn’t have the same connotation as the idolized and fictional ideas ‘superhero’ reminds people of.”_

_“I… don’t know,” Jack mumbled. “I’m not really… Like, I can’t…”_

_“How hard could it be?” Felix reassured the other. In a blur, he appearing standing next to the teacher. “I mean, it’s just… ‘pew,’” He mimed firing a gun at Jack with the childish ‘gun’ sound, who rolled his eyes, but played the part of dramatically falling off the couch to the ground. “Die. End of story.”_

_Jack looked up from being ‘dead’ warily. “Wait, we’re going to... kill people?” His voice fell into a more annunciated Irish accent as he stumbled over his words, a sign that he was starting to feel slightly anxious._

_“No, no,” Karim said firmly, looking at Felix. “In helping people, that also includes the criminals in a way, as strange as that may sound. We don’t want to unnecessarily harm anybody, just stop the criminals from hurting anybody else. Killing isn’t the first thing we leap to.”_

_“Well, I mean… yeah.” The Swede shrugged. “Just, in the movies-”_

_“Unrealistic, but some end-goals of cops or superheroes in movies do involve simply neutralizing the problem, not destroying it.” Jack visibly relaxed, moving from his ‘dead’ position to just sitting on the floor, facing the couch Karim had moved to sit on._

_“But… why  us?” Jack questioned. “I mean, I guess I can understand Felix. He’s pretty powerful.” The Swede preened at the compliment. “But… I’m not… y’know… and, I mean, we’re just kids, and… I don’t really even understand how you found us… and... aren’t the guards supposed to stop with the criminal stuff?”_

_Patiently sorting through all of the Irishman’s questions, the teacher started from the beginning. “I have an acquaintance who has the capability to both locate and determine the scale of a person’s capability,” Karim answered. “He simply gives me a hand in locating them. I am actively seeking out more ‘students’ in order to approach them with this offer, but for now…” He grinned. “Felix is more than enough to keep me busy.”_

_As Jack giggled at Felix’s outraged remarks, Karim continued. “And, for the other part of your question, yes, the cops are supposed to deal with the criminal activity. However, as I see it, the police force has many flaws, and as more gangs of criminals form, they simply aren’t doing a good enough job of helping others. As an example, have you ever heard of the ‘Silver’ group?”_

_The Irishman shook his head, and he continued. “Marked by the silver collars they all wear, hence the name, they’re one of the newer bands of criminals in the US area. But, they’re quickly making a name for themselves by how powerful their members are. The police haven’t managed to stop a single one of their heists. Their leader is extremely intelligent about how he goes about his work.” With the last sentence, his tone of voice changed to a darker one, though Jack couldn’t quite pick out what underlying emotions the words held. “But, anyway, I have a better understanding of how their leader thinks than most, and with that knowledge, I’ve been able to inconvenience, and sometimes stop the criminals completely. And, with some training, I’m hoping I can get some help from others to stop groups like them from causing any more harm.”_

_“He’s not telling you how awesome he is,” Felix waved off his teacher’s words as he turned to Jack, eyes dancing with excitement. “He totally kicks their butts every time!”_

_“Again, my aim isn’t to hurt…”_

_“He’s all like, whapsh, boom, kapow,” With each sound effect, the Swede mimed fighting off invisible enemies, and Jack giggled as Karim gave up on what he was trying to say. “And then, bam, he wins!”_

_“So, we’re supposed to help with that?” Jack asked, still sounding slightly skeptical. “Fighting crime and everything?”_

_“Yup! C’mon Jackieboy, can’t you see it?” Drawing away Jack’s attention again, Felix struck a heroic pose before declaring, “I’m gonna be Superman!”_

_“... Felix, we have already discussed this, that name is already taken by a fictitious superhero. You might get sued.”_

_“...Don’t know what that means, but they can’t do it if I have a secret identity… right?”_

_“Yes. Well… no? I actually don’t know…” Shaking his head, Karim returned back to what he was going to say. “Anyway, the point shouldn’t necessarily be about going out there to be recognized for what you do. The public might come up with a name to refer to you as time goes on, but you shouldn’t go out there with the sole purpose of popularity. Therefore, I don’t think you should be thinking of a ‘supername’ quite yet, though eventually, codenames could be useful.”_

_Felix stuck out his tongue at the teacher, but grinned. “Fine. Whatever you say, Goldie.”_

_Karim groaned, then put his face in his hands. “Okay, maybe the public isn’t super creative, but I still don’t think you should be picking your 'superhero' name,” he said, voice muffled._

_“Oh, c’mon! It’s a good name! It’s a plant, you do plant stuff, it fits perfectly!” Felix added cheekily, eyes flashing with amusement._

_“Just because I happen to use a goldenrod plant in my first time in public doesn’t mean I have to be stuck with that as a name,” the teacher muttered, face still in his hands._

_“Wouldn’t ‘The Flash’ fit Felix better?’ Jack added offhandedly. The Swede’s eyes lit up, and Karim took his face out of his hands to quickly glance at the other._

_“Don’t encourage him,” he warned._

_Felix grinned. “No, do encourage me! Why didn’t I think of that before? Goldenrod,” he pointed to Karim, who just rolled his eyes, “The Flash,” he continued, pointing to himself, “and…” He waved his hand in the Irish boy’s direction. “Uh… Jack… ieboy… Man…”_

_Jack gave him a confused look. “...That is the stupidest superhero name I have ever heard…”_

_“I just don’t want it to all go to your head, okay?” Karim burst out, nervously fixing the cuffs of his button-up._

_Felix sighed, then in a flash appeared on the couch next to his teacher. “C’mon J, you know I’m just joking. I get your goal, and I wanna help people as much as you do. It isn’t all about being a super cool su… vigilante.”_

_Karim sighed as well, but smiled slightly. “I know. I… I just don’t want to force you to grow up too fast, or force you into anything. To feel like that’s the only option.”_

_“You aren’t,” Felix reassured him. Jack looked between the two from his vantage point on the floor, not completely following along with what they were talking about._

_“I… I just…” He looked down at the floor. “This… well, this obviously isn’t the best situation to grow up in, especially under my care. I mean, I basically just graduated college. I don’t have nearly enough experience to do this. I really don’t know why I thought I could do this.” He laughed slightly, though there wasn’t any humor behind it. “I can’t do this. I can’t. Why did I think I could?” he repeated quietly, almost as if to himself._

_For some reason, Jack didn’t think this was about fighting crime anymore._

_“Because you wanted to help,” Felix stated matter-of-factly, looking up at Karim. “And you did. And you’re gonna keep doing it.”_

_“But-”_

_“Mr. Karim, I was going to die. Jack was going to keep getting abused. You know why?” Felix fixed the older man with a determined look. “Because the rest of the world didn’t give a shit about us. But you know why I’m still alive, why Jack doesn’t still have the bruises, why neither of us flinches away when people touch us, why we’re both okay right now? Because you cared. You still care. And that’s why you’re doing this; because you have a good heart. You helped us, even though we might not choose to help you.” Taking a breath, the Swedish boy continued. “And you’re right, this isn’t the best situation to grow up in, and you aren’t going to help us grow up perfectly, but you’re trying. And that’s more than I can say about most of the world.”_

_There was a pregnant pause as Felix’s words hung in the air. Jack stayed silent, not sure if he should say something, or remain quiet._

_Finally, Karim let out a breath, then brought his head up to switch his gaze from the floor to the Swede’s face. His eyes were slightly red, but he was smiling slightly. “...What have I told you about the language, Felix?”_

_“See? You’re the perfect dad,” Felix shot back with a grin. “And I know that just because you’re taking care of me doesn’t I need to do what you’re doing. I’m going to do it because I want to. Your offer to back out still stands, and I’m glad that it’s an option, but I don’t want to.”_

_“My offer does still stand,” he said quietly, almost as a reassurance to himself. Looking back down at the carpeted floor, he ran a hand through his hair, then jerked back up to look at the other boy. Jack was still sitting on the floor in front of them, chewing nervously on the sleeves that covered most of his hands as he looked between the two. “Offer! Yes, okay! So we’ve talked about why you’re here, but there’s obviously more,” the teacher started again quickly, veering off completely from the earlier conversation and forcing it back on track._

_“Yes, you, of course, don’t have to do this whole vigil…” Catching the Swede’s sideglance out of the corner of his eye, he sighed, then continued. “...’superhero’ stuff. For you two especially, it’s obviously different. As it is with Felix, you can stay here until you’re 18 and can support yourself, as neither of you can return home. I still would like to teach you, with your capability and everything, but I completely understand that what I’m proposing is risky and not for everyone. I would never want to force you, or anyone, into a harmful situation unless they fully consent to it. I know we don’t know what your capability is, but it’s special. And I believe you can do a lot of good with it.” Slowing as he judged the boy’s expressions, he looked down at the floor before continuing tentatively. “You don’t have to decide immediately, of course, but-”_

_“I want to,” Jack said quietly, and Karim looked up in slight surprise, Felix grinning beside him._

_“You… you don’t-” the teacher started again, but Jack continued, twisting his sleeves in his hands as his eyes flitted around the room._

_“I know,” he said quietly. “It might be dangerous. And I’m just a kid or whatever. But… I do want to help people. I want to protect people. I…” Looking up at the two shyly, he kept twisting the fabric between his fingers. “I w-want to make sure nobody else gets hurt.”_

_Their teacher slowly nodded, and the Swede grinned so wide it looked like his face would crack._

_“Yes!” he cheered, and suddenly Jack was bowled over as the other shot into his arms, toppling him over in the tightest hug he had ever received. “We’re gonna be the coolest heroes ever!” the other all but shouted into his ear. Jack giggled slightly and hugged the other back._

_“Well, I am glad that you feel that way…” Finally shoving the Swede off him with a snort, Jack pushed himself back up to a sitting position and looked back up at Karim, not missing the mixture of emotions in his expression. “Just to clarify, that does not mean that I’m sending a bunch of kids out to fight a group of adults. But, if I do train you two, and when you’re ready, you still want to…”_

_Jack turned to lock eyes with his friend, and he grinned._

_“The bad guys won’t stand a chance against us.”  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, if that wasn't roughly edited, I don't know WHAT is
> 
> butheyI'mbacktopublishingonWednesdaysevenifit'smidnightsothatcountsforsomethinghaha
> 
> As Chapter 7 is the last actual chapter with Jawed Karim really in the story, I wasn't expecting to actually give him much of a... part, I guess. I mean, nobody even really knows much about him, and he was just supposed to be the teacher guy for the good guys, but hey, I accidentally wrote, like, 7 paragraphs focusing on him, so I guess this is my life now. 
> 
> And boy-howdy am I excited for the next chapter! After 5 long, agonizing chapters, our favorite little glitchy child is finally going to enter the story that is literally named for him (...even if it's just by name... hehe... don't get your hopes up...)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cranky hasn't shown up in a while, so Mark gets paired with another villain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "But wait," I hear a few of you saying. "Didn't you already publish this chapter?"
> 
> Yeah, I published this two weeks ago before I went to sleep, then woke up and decided I hated it. Not too much has changed tbh, but after tweaking it a bit, I'm satisfied. If you already read it from the first time I posted it, it hasn't changed enough to warrant a re-read, so you can just go onto the next chapter. 
> 
> And for those of you who commented on the chapter before I deleted it, thank you so much for your kind words! I really appreciated them!

Mark wasn’t necessarily considered the best ‘hero’ by the public. Then again, he wasn’t even considered the best by the people he worked with. Surprisingly, for as much as he was jokingly badmouthed by him, his Swedish employer was probably the person who had the most faith in him and his abilities, if not the _only_ person to have faith in him.

He knew that he was seen as 'too unprofessional' about his work, but honestly, was anyone in their organization actually taking their job completely seriously? Besides Cry and MatPat, everyone kinda just goofed off, having more fun with stopping the villains than the villains seemed to have causing havoc on the streets.

Of course, not being the 'best hero' in no way correlated with not being the public's favorite. For as much as their organization's initial goal was to act similar to the police force, the public had definitely blown up about the 'superheroes' and a growing fanbase had sprouted almost immediately. And with the fanbase came the obvious favorites of the public. 'Markiplier' being the best hero?

Not really.

But being one of the favorites?

Oh yeah, the public ate his antics up (with the minority just wanting him to do his job straightforwardly for once, but what was the fun in that?)

It had all begun with the hair, if he really thought about it. And it wasn’t even the iconic pink or red dye jobs. The pink had raised a few eyebrows, but as a small fundraising for charity that most of the people in the organization participated in, nobody had really given it much notice. It was when he had begun to catch the notice of the public as an individual, to be seen as more of a threat, and when he had redyed his hair blue after everyone else's color washed out, that he started getting noticed for his unprofessional approach.

It was the first time he had been out in a while, and while still relatively unknown even among his enemies, he had been cornered in an alleyway. Stuck in a trash-strewn gap between two trashy apartments on a sweltering hot day with Sharp grinning at him as if he had already won, it wasn't the most ideal way he would've wanted to face this new villain, but it was manageable. Flames had crackled to life, dancing on Mark's shoulders and down his arms, and the villain had jumped back in alarm.

“But… you…” The villain had gestured at Mark’s poof of blue hair, then at the blue outfit he was wearing. “I lead you here... I planned it so there would be no fountains or lots of plumbing nearby and... you’re not a… Water Manipulator?”

Mark frowned. “...No? I’m just a fan of the cooler colors right now.”

It was the only time he had ever managed to catch the singer off guard and win, and Mark would forever hold that as one of his greater achievements.

So, he had ended up breaking a stereotype that he hadn't even known existed. Dozens of articles either admired his brashness in wearing a color contradictory to his capabilities, while others bashed him for doing this to 'obviously just try and screw with the system.' Whatever that meant. He had really just liked the color blue at the time.  
  
And then, there was the whole ‘ass’ sunglasses incident (which really wasn’t his fault; when he had changed his hair, and the color scheme of his uniform to match, he had forgotten to get the mask. What else was he supposed to use?) And following that, it was the bright pink mustache, which honestly wasn’t his fault, either (How was he supposed to know that Crank had a sense of humor that would lead to backlash after an innocent prank?). After that, any semblance of professionalism had fallen apart completely.

So, yeah, barely anybody took him seriously anymore. Some people saw it as someone fighting against the stereotypical image they felt like bound most peacekeepers, others just saw it as him being a goof. He still got the job done, but at this point, everyone expected him to do it in the most inconvenient way possible. And he enjoyed it immensely, loving to mess with the villains (exasperating his coworkers was just an added bonus). Plus, the public loved it. Most of the public, anyway.

But that just made him even more surprised when Dan stopped him in the meeting hall and told him that Felix wanted to see him.

That could mean only one thing (...Well, maybe two things. But since it was during their normal work hours, it was probably the more professional of the two options).

“Are you sure?” he asked again, and the other man shrugged before nodding.

“Yeah. Looks like you’re getting another pairing.” Pulling at the cuffs of his long-sleeved shirt, he shot Mark a curious look. “You were with cyborg dude, right? What happened? From what I’ve heard, you guys seemed pretty evenly matched.”

Mark shrugged, then ran a hand through his hair. “That’s the thing; I don’t really know. He hasn’t shown up in a month now.” He grinned. “I guess Cry just got sick of having me tagging along with him, so he sent in a request to get me officially paired up with another villain.”

“Wait, you’ve been going out with Cryaotic?” The man looked at Mark curiously. "Huh, didn't think he'd be the duo type of guy."

“Oh come on, Howell, you know he’s not really my type,” Mark joked, and Dan rolled his eyes. “But yeah, I guess I have? Technically? It was literally just me doing crowd control while he did the hard stuff. Seriously, every rumor you may have heard about him and his fighting style? Completely true. I don’t know why he doesn’t get more media coverage; he might even rival Felix.”

After another minute of casual banter, the conversation between the two gradually drew to a close. Mark was just about to head off to Felix's office when a pair of footsteps alerted them of more people coming into the meeting hall.

The first figure quickly turned and ducked into another hallway, quiet footsteps being the only real indication that he had been there at all. Mark only caught the glimpse of a familiar white mask of his past month’s partner before the figure was gone from sight.

The second figure didn't leave as quickly. Sporting the black and dark purple clothes and bangs falling into his eyes, one might assume that he was trying to draw as little attention to himself as well. If it wasn’t for the way he held himself as he strutted into the room, overflowing with confidence, Mark might’ve believed that was the case.

“Greetings, fellow heroes!” Thomas called as he spotted them and diverted his path towards him. Stopping in front of the two, he winked at the Brit, then turned towards Mark. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of officially meeting quite yet! You’re ‘Markiplier,’ right?” Mark nodded. "I have to say, I’m a huge fan. Especially of the hair. I absolutely loved the red hair you had a while back; it really complimented your skin complexion. But the natural brown looks amazing.”

“Thank you!” Mark preened, running his fingers through his hair and making the brown floof stand up a bit. "It's nice to meet someone with such good taste!"

Dan rolled his eyes, jokingly elbowing Mark. “Don’t inflate his already huge ego, Sanders.” Motioning down the hallway, he turned more towards the newcomer. “But, anyway, you should probably get going; Felix probably wouldn’t want to you make him wait too long. Basically, congrats on getting a new pairing. And..." he smirked before Mark turned to walk away. "Good luck not getting a crappy one!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I think you've dragged this out long enough, you Swedish bastard," Mark groaned, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, holding his face in his hands. "You've been rambling for at least half an hour at this point. I get it, you and Marzia are basically the most perfect couple on earth. Congrats. Amazing. You done good. Please just get to the point."

Felix just grinned. "Just thought I'd bestow my wisdom upon you."

Taking his face out of his hands, Mark shot the other a skeptical look. "For half an hour during normal working hours?"

"What can I say? I've got a lot of wisdom to bestow."

"All I want to know is who I'm paired with, not the secret to your 'fabulously luscious hair' and 'perfect relationship.' Just get on with it!"

Rolling his eyes, the Swede let out a long, drawn-out sigh. "Fiiiiiiine." Clearing his throat, he straightened up slightly and took a more professional stance. "So, Mark, I'm basically taking a huge chance on you here. Please don't screw it up, or I might have another lawsuit on my hands."

"Wait, another?"

“...Which leads me to the first part of this process: warning you of how dangerous the villain you are going to be paired with can be.” Felix grinned and fingered at the hem of his shirt. “Obligatory battle-scar showcase!”

Mark’s eyes widened, immediately catching on. There was only one villain that had ever been able to leave a serious scratch on the speedy Swede. “Wait, you paired me with-” His voice cut off as his boss pulled up their shirt slightly, showing a stretch of toned skin from his hip to mid-ribcage.

It was surprising Mark even knew what was coming. Being such a flamboyant, and sometimes egotistical, person, it was expected that Felix wouldn’t go around flaunting a reminder of the biggest loss he had faced. Secretly, Mark felt like it was kind of an honor, like it was the dividing piece that graduated him from acquaintance to close friend. Deep down, he was glad that the Swede felt comfortable enough around him to not feel the need to keep anything hidden.

But even though he had seen it before, and it had been healed for years now, Mark still winced slightly. An almost completely straight slash rose from to the left of his belly button and curved its way up towards the Swede’s heart, the skin around the wound puckering slightly.

“Oh come on Fe, _Anti_?” Mark managed to breathe out in a half-annoyed tone, tearing his eyes away from the scar.

“You’re one of the last people we haven’t paired with him! And with you chasing Crank away, I’m thinking you have a chance.” Pulling his shirt back over his stomach, he pushed off of his desk, spinning around in his swivel chair to quickly grab a folder from the cabinet against the wall. “Here’s the file. Good luck, bro. You’re probably gonna need it.” Tossing the paper-stuffed folder at Mark, he grinned as the other fumbled to catch it.

“I thought you said I was too unprofessional for-”

“Dude, you’re gonna do great. Just take a look through the files, prep yourself, maybe ask around for tips from his other pairings, and... try not to get beat up too much.” With a grin, he winked before adding, “And I’d recommend playing a few rounds in the break room. He seems to be favoring Super Smash Bros Brawl again.”

Mark rolled his eyes, but he knew that it was the one unspoken perk of being paired with the infamously difficult villain. The only reason that people even half enjoyed fighting that green-haired glitch was that they had an excuse to be paid to play video games in the break room. Anti hadn’t had an official pairing in a year now, but there was an unofficial rotation that the best of them were a part of, and he knew exactly who was up next by who frequented the giant beanbag chair set in front of their tv.

Looks like Mark, until he was utterly beaten by the villain, had now been added to that rotation, and as a result, had climbed into the upper ranks of the organization.

“Why can’t you take him?” Mark complained, playing with Anti’s file in his hand. “Let’s be real here, you’re the only person who’s even remotely evenly-matched against him.”

Felix snorted. “Also, the only person to be almost killed by him. ‘Evenly-matched’ my ass.”

“Didn’t you stop him for a year?”

“Yeah. And then he stabbed me. And then Karim grounded me from ever fighting anyone ever again. It’s a miracle that I work here at all.”

Mark rolled his eyes, but let the topic drop as he finally looked at the file in his hands, flipping open to the first page. After a quick scan of the first page, his brow furrowed, and he looked up at his semi-boss in confusion.

“Dude, why are these all scribbled over?” Mark questioned, flipping through the file.

The Swede just grinned, leaning back in his swivel chair. “I update them every once in a while. Y’know, to keep things up to date.”

“Aren’t the files updated each year already?”

“Well, yeah, but I add some notes throughout the year,” Felix said casually, flipping through some papers on his desk before tossing them haphazardly back onto the surface. “Y’know, important information. Relationships, ages, advances in capabilities, who’s best paired with who.”

“Important information, huh? Looks like you’ve added some cute nicknames in here as well.” Clearing his throat, Mark read from the file. “Name: Unknown. Alias: The Diamond Man, ‘TDM,’ and, in your writing, _‘That Damn Motherf-_ ”

“Oh, whoops, didn’t mean to hand you his file, too!” Before Mark could blink, the misplaced villain file was in his employer’s hand. Sliding the folder back into his desk, he shot Mark a grin. “Anyway, yeah, I just update them occasionally.”

“... Do you ‘update’ our files, too?”

There was a pause. Then, “No, of course not!”

“Felix, I want to see my file.”

“That’s private information.”

“I have the right to see my own file!”

“Well, you can’t!”

“What did you write about me?”

“None of your concern!”

Muttering to himself under his breath, Mark mentally began planning to steal his file to see what exactly the Swede had added to his information. Judging by the small bit he had seen of the other villain's file, it probably wasn't very flattering.

Finally taking a closer look at the villain’s file he was holding, Mark frowned again as he saw something stand out beside the messy scrawl covering half the page. Peeling the sticky note off of where it had been stuck on the corner of the file, he held it up and looked at Felix.

“... Who’s ‘Jack?’”

In an instant, Felix had the sticky note in his hand, and Mark fumbled with the file as the papers were blown everywhere. “Oh, nobody,” His friend replied nonchalantly as Mark chased the papers the other’s speed had scattered. “ Just this… hunch... I had… kid that ran off a while back… just doing some research…” Rambling more to himself than to Mark, Felix crumbled up the sticky note and tossed it into the garbage bin. “Not important, though. Anyway, you should probably read up on him, maybe see who else has encountered him, because the moment he shows up, you’re heading out. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some work to do.” Shooing Mark away, the Swede reached into his desk, then dumped a stack of crumpled papers onto his already cluttered desk.

Mark just stared at the pile as it teetered to the side, then spilled off the desktop and onto the carpeted floor with a whoosh. “Please tell me that you’ve been keeping up with the legal stuff.”

“I _just_ said I had work to do.”

Picking up the top sheet, Mark groaned. “Fe, this is from last year. So is this. And this. Just because our real boss is on vacation doesn't mean that you get to slack off. And… wait..." Glancing closer at another sheet of paper, he frowned. "Rhett and Link got sued again?”

At that, Felix groaned. “Destroyed a city block on accident. Again. But it’s fine. Just..." He waved the other away. "Go. Do prep stuff. Training. Something. Just get out of my beautiful hair."

"Beautiful?"

Mark's vision blurred, and he found himself outside Felix's office, being carried bridal style in said man's arms. "Bro, you're heavy," the Swede gasped dramatically, dropping Mark unceremoniously on the ground.

"Hey, ow!"

"SquadFam,  _out_." The door slammed shut.

Childishly sticking out his tongue at the closed door, Mark rolled his eyes as he got up, dusted off his pants, then turned to head for the break room.

He guessed he'd better get started with a classic game of Mario Kart.

You know, just to get prepped.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lil bit of Jack and Felix fluff just because I really like writing the boys as kiddos???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I took down the previous chapter to rework it, I thought I'd release this chapter as well just so I have something actually new to post. I'm so sorry that this took FOREVER, but I finally worked it out and I'm satisfied with the end result. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also, I'm super bad at portraying certain stuff, so if anything ever doesn't make sense, it probably means I screwed up and didn't explain it right. So, please ask questions if you get confuzled, but I swear I tried my best lol

_“Jack… please, you don’t have to do this,” Felix pleaded. Jack didn’t even spare him a glance, keeping his gaze fixated in front of him. “You don’t have to do this!” the boy repeated, shooting a pleading glance at Irishman, who still didn’t look at him. “Please! I thought we were friends.” His voice rose to a squeak as he frantically turned to the task at hand again. “Don’t kill me!”_

_Jack paused in his movements, then shrugged off the slight guilt as a grin overtook his face. “Sorry, Fe. I gotta do what I gotta do.” With a final stroke, the sword cut across the figure, leaving a slash in the other’s abdomen._

_Felix cried out, but Jack couldn’t help but pump his fist in the air in victory as he watched the other’s avatar dissipate in a shock of red pixels._

_The Swede threw down his controller. “Oh come on! I thought we were a team! We could’ve shared the victory!” Shooting another sidelong glance at the smiling Irishman, he smirked, then dove across the couch to pin the other boy under him. “You're gonna pay for that one, Jackieboy!”_

_“Wait, no!” Jack shrieked at the other boy began to tickle him. “N-not my fatal weakness!” His pleas went unheard as his voice slowly dissolved into giggles, feebly trying to push his friend off of him._

_"So... what did we learn here?" Grinning down at the smaller boy, who was still giggling while curled in the fetal position, Felix finally moved back to his side of the couch._

_"Th...that I'm... I'm better a-at games th-than you," Jack managed to breathe out between giggles._

_"No, you learned you're not supposed to tussle with the muscle!"_

_Still giggling, Jack pushed himself back up into a sitting position. "Admit it..."_

_"No!"_

_"C'mon Fe..."_

_"Nope!"_

_"You know it's true!" Jack continued in a sing-song voice. "I totally kicked your butt!"_

_"...Fine..." Felix conceded. "I guess that... you did... okay... I mean, I did almost beat you, so... But, honestly, where did you get that sword from?" Felix questioned. "I thought for sure that once your gun ran out of ammo, you were screwed and I would win!" Looking closer at Jack's avatar, which was cheering under the 'Winner!' banner, he frowned. "Huh... weird. That looks... almost exactly like that training sword we were practicing with yesterday..." Glancing at the other curiously, he scratched his neck. "I don't remember seeing that one on the weapon select. Where did you find it?"_

_"Just in the corner," Jack replied simply, grabbing his controller again and turning back to the screen._

_"...The corner of what?"_

_Taking his eyes off the screen, Jack gestured back to the corner behind them, mentally pulling the sword from his avatar's hand and watching it glitch into existence back where it was earlier. Hopefully the other wouldn't mind that he had used it, but he didn't seem to be making a move for it, so he assumed that it was up for grabs. Blinked rapidly as his right eye twitched, he then turned back right as Felix looked where he was pointing._

_"But the..." The Swedish boy trailed off, looking at him curiously. "Bro, is your eye okay?"_

_Jack cocked his head to the side. "Huh?"_

_"Oh, it's just... it looked like it was..." He shook his head. "Never mind. It must've been the glow of the tv or something. It just... huh." Felix looked at him again, then shrugged and turned back to the tv._

_The Irishman just gave him a curious glance. "...You're a weird kid, you know that?"_

_"Guess you're rubbing off on me." Smirking as he started the next round, he shot a sidelong glance at the other in just enough time to get a throw pillow to the face._

_"Hey! If anything, you're the one rubbing off on me!"_

_"I would never do something as childish as throw a pillow at someone!" Grabbing the cushion, he grinned as Jack shrieked and covered his head with his hands, controller falling to the ground as the Swede attacked mercilessly with the pillow._

_"You'd think after a whole year of living here, you'd learn not start fights that I'll obviously win!" Grinning cheekily at his friend, he managed to speed to the other side of the couch just as Jack swung at him, laughing as the pillow only hit the floor where he had been sitting previously._

_"Hey, superspeed isn't fair!"_

_"But... don't you always say..." Felix trailed off with a grin, leaning against the back of the couch._

_Jack groaned and pointed a finger at him. "Don't you dare..."_

_"...that SPEED IS KEY?" Another pillow to the face. "Oh, you're in for it this time!"_

_By the time Karim walked in to see what all the noise was, two pillows had broken open, and Jack, covered in small white feathers, was grinning triumphantly on a stack of cushions, a struggling and swearing Swede trapped underneath._

_It took a full minute for their guardian to stop laughing and help Felix out from under the mountain of pillows._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_A couple hours later, Jack found himself lying on his back in his darkened bedroom, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. Felix had them on his ceiling as well, and after he saw Jack staring at them after a particularly bad nightmare when he had spent the night in the Swede's room, he had offered to give the Irishman the leftover stickers he hadn't used. They usually helped him calm down and fall asleep, but tonight, the subtle green glow didn't seem to be helping._

_In fact, nothing seemed to be helping to soothe his mind. He had slipped on his usual blue hoodie once he realized that the stars littering the ceiling and spilling onto the walls wouldn't be enough, but even the familiar weight of the blue fabric wasn't helping._

_Ever since his teacher had mentioned that another kid coming to live with them the next day, he had felt... weird. It wasn't that he felt like he was being replaced, or that the new kid and he wouldn't get along or anything. In fact, from what Karim had told them, Ken Morrison sounded like a great addition to their strange little family. He just..._

_He didn't know. He didn't know why he was feeling whatever he was feeling, but the pit in his stomach wouldn't go away. After the first two sleepless hours had passed, he was tempted to slip across the hall into Felix's room, but he knew the Swede was probably already asleep. He didn't want to wake him up, not when tomorrow was so important. He didn't want to ruin more of the day than he inevitably would._

_Focusing his eyes back on the ceiling, he began counting the stars in hopes that it would tire his mind like counting sheep was supposed to do._

_Seventy-five._

_He was recounting them for the fifth time when he realized that he had missed four of the small stickers stuck just on the other side of his desk. Seventy-nine, then. He counted them all twice more just to be sure._

_But now he was still awake, eyes aching from focusing on the dim glow, and knowing how many stickers Felix had helped him stick on his ceiling wasn't helping with any of that. The pit in his stomach grew._

_Sneezing as he felt something tickle against his nose, he ran his fingers through his hair, watching as a few small feathers, the remnants from the day's pillow war, became dislodged from the tangled strands and floated to the floor. It had been a hectic, fun-filled day, and he was exhausted. Why couldn't he sleep? Turning onto his side, the boy watched as the red LED lights of his clock changed from 9 to 10, 10 to 11, and then as it flickered from 'AM' to 'PM.'_

_It was around when the numbered flashed to '2:37,' his eyes just beginning to slide shut, when he heard the first creak of floorboards in the hallway._

_"Well, why can't we take the fast one?" the boy could barely hear someone say as another floorboard creaked. "He could be useful."_

_Jack's eyes shot open, focusing on the faint outline of his bedroom door. That wasn't Karim or Felix's voice._

_In fact, it wasn't a voice he recognized at all._

_Maybe it was one of his teacher's friends? They showed up at odd hours of the day all the time, going out as a team to help out around the city whenever the need arose. He knew a couple of them had moved into the building as well, though he didn't run into them very often._

_"Or better yet, why not both?" a female voice added in an even quieter whisper, and Jack's ears had to strain to pick out the words._

_"You know what the Boss said, we can't make the plant elemental too suspicious. Only one."_

_Jack shot up in bed, wincing as his bedframe creaked quietly. The voices in the hall fell silent._

_He was getting a bad feeling about this. A very, very bad feeling. He couldn't think of a reason any of his teacher's friends would refer to him as 'the plant elemental.' They always called Karim by his name, or by his alias._

_Who was standing outside his door?_

_"Well, we gotta pick one," the female voice finally broke the silence, though Jack could still only barely hear what she was saying. He froze as another voice was added to the conversation; deep and gravely, still quiet, but not as quiet as the other two. Almost as if he wasn't worried about getting caught._

_"Younger one, definitely. Small, paranoid, probable abandonment issues, and with another 'hero in training' on the way, it'd almost be understandable if a nervous wreck like him ran away. He wouldn't be missed." The voices fell silent, and Jack remained frozen in his spot. What were they talking about? Should he go get Mr. Karim? No, his teacher was gone for the night. One of the more powerful of the Silver group had been sighted earlier, and their teacher had left, promised he'd be back as soon as possible._

_He wished he hadn't gone._

_Should he go get Felix? But then he'd have to go across the hall, and the people would definitely see him._

_What was he supposed to do? Jack was in a cold sweat now, even though his room had been at a comfortable temperature all night. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest, and he wouldn't be surprised if the people in the hall could hear it too. His mind was running through all of his possible options, but he couldn't move. He couldn't force himself to move, he just sat frozen on his bed and stared fearfully at his door._

_"Kid... Nathan, right? Do your thing."_

_There was a small cough, and then a wavering baritone voice began to sing quietly from the other side of his door. Immediately, Jack's eyes shot closed, and he blinked frantically to try and open them again. He had to go, he had to move he had to move move he had to leave he had to get to Felix-_

_But as the song continued, he began to struggle with his thoughts less and less. What was he worried about again? Why was he out of bed? Shouldn't he be sleeping right now? The voice was safe, and he was safe. He should just go to sleep._

_It sounded like a kid, and a kid couldn't do any harm. He seemed safe, he felt safe, he was safe._

_And he didn't want the song to stop._

_He took another step forward, closer to the door. He wanted to get closer to the pretty song, but his body felt so heavy, and he was so tired..._

_Maybe he'd just rest for a bit, then go find the source of the song. His eyelids fluttered shut, and he felt his head nod down to rest lazily on his shoulder. His legs gave out from under him, and he felt his face hit the fuzzy carpeting. His eyelids fought once again to stay open, but already his vision was going hazy. The sounds around him became muffled, as though his ears were still filled with pillow stuffing._

_Jack didn't hear when the voice stopped. He didn't hear when someone fell into a coughing fit outside his door. He didn't hear the now obvious footsteps in the hall, nor the now non-whispering voices congratulating the singer on his success._

_He didn't even hear when the handle of his bedroom turned, and the door squeaked open._

_But, before his eyes shut for good, he got the glimpse of a few figures silhouetted in his doorway, light glinting off of the silver bands around their necks._

_Then, sleep won._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter buildup to actually seeing everyone's favorite boi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I start off every chapter being like "O M G this is so l8 the next one won't b sorrrrrrryyyy" but... yeah. Whoops. This was a hard one to write for literally no reason. Idk. At this point, just expect that this erratic posting is the best it's gonna be. ANYway, thank you all so much for the support, and I hope you enjoy this (maybe) final buildup chapter to the actual good part!

According to Dan, the most important thing to keep in mind was offense.

“Listen, Mark” he began seriously. “He’s going to come at you hard and fast.” Seeing Mark’s smirk, he groaned, running a hand through his curls as the tone of his voice immediately lost all seriousness. “I swear, can we even have one conversation-?”

“Just keep going, Howell.” Mark cut him off as he stifled a chuckle. “So, he’s gonna come at me hard, got it. Hard and coming. Picture in mind. What next?”

Huffing slightly, the other couldn’t help but crack a grin as Mark tried to stop laughing. Nudging him jokingly, he lept back with a yelp of pain as their skin touched, Mark acting in a like manner. Grabbing the now freezing part of his forearm, Dan grabbing the burning part of his, both men watched as steam hissed up from the red marks on their skin. “Oops…” Dan hissed through his teeth, tugging the sleeves of his shirt back over his forearms. “Forgot… about rolling up my sleeves around you. Man, why are you so hot.”

“Aw, thanks ice queen,” Mark responded almost instinctively, prodding at the reddened skin as the freezing feeling finally began to fade. “But I don’t think it’s so much how hot I am, and more how cold you are. Already bad enough Felix keeps the temperature low here for you. Only freezes that icy heart of yours even more than it already is.”

Dan rolled his eyes again, giving one last tug on his sleeves before moving on. “Bring it up with our employer, not me. Anyway, going back to what I was saying before you so rudely derailed the conversation, the best way to approach a fight with him is to strike back as fast as possible. Give him all you got from the very beginning. That’s the only way to even get close to inconveniencing him, let alone actually taking him down.” Picking at the tender skin, Dan frowned. “Great, I think I’m actually going to need burn cream this time…”

So, rule 1, focus on a more offensive strategy. Pretty straightforward.

Well, it was going to be straightforward, but that was before he met up with his previous kinda-partner and was given the exact opposite advice.

“Listen, Mark, you read the file, didn’t you?” Cry stuffed his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie, mask turned expectantly towards the other hero.

“...Yeah… totally…”

Even though he couldn’t see the others face, Mark felt like he was rolling his eyes. Or maybe silently laughing. Wearing a mask 24/7 didn’t exactly make him the easiest person to read.

 

“Oh, come on! They’re basically dicionary definitions with Felix’s scribbles all over them!” Holding up the file in his hand, he gestured at it as though it proved his point. “It’s not like it’s going to help me!”

 

“Well, if you _did_ read the file that you were given for this explicit purpose, you’d see that he can only seem to battle for about 5-7 minutes. Offense is all well and good, but nobody here is strong enough to actually take him down, or if they are, don’t have the chance to get close enough to. The key here is defense.”

Mark nodded thoughtfully, running his fingers through his hair and pushing it out of his face. “So… basically screw around with him until he’s weak, then try and take him down once I’m out of his territory?”

The masked man shot him finger guns. “Bingo. Though, I wouldn’t exactly say ‘screw around with’ as much as ‘keep him busy.’”

Mark grinned. “Oh, I’ll ‘keep him busy’ alright, don’t you even _worry_ about it,” he said in a tone that made it very clear that someone should be worried about it. “Between my distracting good looks and my top-notch humor, he’ll be too busy laughing and or swooning to even think about attacking me. This should be a piece of cake!”

This time, Mark was sure that he finally got Cry to laugh. His shoulders were shaking slightly, and the blank face of his signature mask looked more to the ground as he doubled over on himself slightly. “Yeah, get Anti to swoon or laugh, and I’ll throw convince Felix to raise your salary a couple figures,” he said breathlessly, finally letting out an audible chuckle.

“Get me a raise, let me wear the mask for a day, give me those pictures you got of Felix at the Christmas party, and I’m in.”

“Dude, I’d let you have my damn mask if you get physical proof of any of that.” He chuckled again, then shook his head. “Those pictures though…” he added slyly, playing with his hoodie strings. “I’d need a bit more incentive to give those up.”

“Oh, you drive a hard bargain. I’ll throw in a cute selfie of us for the pictures, but no more.”

Taking a moment to seemingly ponder the deal, the other finally nodded. “Swoon, laugh, selfie, and you get a raise, the mask, and the pictures. It’s got to be the dorkiest selfie though, or I keep the blackmail.” Holding his hand out jokingly, Mark grinned and took it, shaking it firmly.

“You got yourself a deal, my good sir.”

Cry chuckled once again, pulling his hand back and stuffing it back into his hoodie pocket. “But in all seriousness... defense. Wear him out, then go for it, okay?”

“You got it. See ya, Cry.” Giving a little wave, Mark turned to find the next person he wanted to talk to.

“Oh, and Mark?” Turning back, Mark locked eyes with the two black dots on the white mask. “Read the file. It’s got some important information in it. And…” He paused as if trying to find the right words. “...Just try not to get kicked around too much, okay? First time, especially. Nobody’d think any less of you if you took it easy and focused more on not getting hurt than hurting him.”

Mark just winked. "Be hard to snag that selfie if I was taking it easy, wouldn't it?" And with that, he turned to find the next person he wanted to consult, leaving Cry standing in the hall alone behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before he had even raised a hand to knock on the door, a muffled “come in,” greeted him from the opposite side.

“Hey Mark,” Matt greeted him from where he was lying on the couch, eyes closed. A soda can was held loosely in his right hand, the left dangling off the edge of the furniture.

Mark, nodded in greeting, walking into the dimly lit room and flopped onto the beanbag set to the side of the couch. “Is this a bad time?”

Wincing slightly, the other man’s eyes fluttered open, then stared up at the ceiling. He sighed, then removed one side of the headset away from his ear. “Sorry, what was that?”

“You busy?” Mark tried again.

“Oh, no, only Wade’s out right now. Muyskerm finally showed up again, after, like, 2 weeks, and…” Falling silent for a second, Matthew pushed himself up into a sitting position on the couch, taking a sip of the Diet Coke from the can in his hand. Pulling the headset off completely, he let it fall to a position around his neck, then looked at Mark before continuing. “...Well, which really raises some concerns. If you think about it, this is extremely abnormal. A lot of the Silver group, such as Crank, and now Muy… they’re not showing up as much. Statistically, it doesn’t make sense. Ever since they seemed to have joined, neither have missed even a single week. And, excluding the Chaotic incident and the ‘Anti reboot’ when this first started, so has every other member of the team…”

“I mean, maybe they’re taking breaks? Finally cashing in all those stolen goods, using their sick days, relaxing a bit or something?” Mark offered offhanded, playing with his hands as he talked. Cupping his hands into a ball, he felt a warm burst as flames erupted from his palms, light flashing through the cracks between his fingers. Matt rolled his eyes as the man uncupped his hands quickly, trying in vain to form smoke rings. Seeing that his friend wasn’t giving it much thought, the theorist tabled that observation for later, then switched topics.

“So… what happened? I assume you already met with Felix?” Seeing Mark nod, he continued. “Oh, _finally_. I’ve been trying to get him to finish  _anything_ on his schedule for ages. So…” Taking another sip of his soda, his eyes widened, and he half-choked on the drink as he grabbed at the mic attached to the headphones around his neck. “Wade, Wade, you’re going the wrong way! Switched to Main and Alpine. Still got at least 2 minutes, you can make it.” Mark could vaguely hear Wade answering through the headset, but everything seemed to be fine as Matt turned back to him.

“Anyway, so, you going to team up with someone else now? I was thinking of submitting a request for you and Dan to take a stab at a duo mission.” Setting down his soda can, he pushed himself off of the couch and slid onto his chair, swiveling it around so he could dig through the piles of papers on his desk. “I’ve actually been researching the logistics of you guys- _Wade you’re going to want to take a left here_ \- combining your opposites in a couple of attacks that I think could end up being super effective. I mean- _no, Wade, your other left-_ I know there’s that whole….” Gesturing at Mark, Matt’s eyes ran down Mark’s arm, where a still-reddish burn mark stained his otherwise unblemished skin. “...that thing, but I’m sure that could be worked around. I mean, not that Dan needs help with Phil, but…”

Mark shrugged, then shook his head. “Nope. Not that I’d be opposed to working with Dan, though I still think that the whole can’t-touch thing would be a big issue. I mean, sure, at the end of it, Dan is not on fire, and I’m not frozen, but it still hurts. But anyway, even if I was willing to try that, I’m not getting partnered up with anyone this time. Just got paired with a new villain.”

Matt frowned, turning back and forth slightly in his swivel chair. “Strange… you’re being paired with a new villain… but no new partner?” Standing up, he grabbed his soda again, then began to pace back and forth in front of Mark, who was smirking.

“Aw, does pwor widdle MattyPatty not have the answers for once in his life?”

“No! I mean… ugh. There’s just nobody you could possibly be paired with! Everyone else is paired off, and you aren’t going to be part of a duo. So… that means…” His eyes widened, and he stopped pacing. “Wait, has a new member joined Silver?”

“No, no new villain...” he said, still smirking.

“Then who could it possibly…?” Matt took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Sorry, just… the thought of another criminal getting past me…” He sighed. “Never mind. Just… spare me the mental torture. Who are you getting paired with?”

Watching the other finish off the soda, Mark shrugged. “I mean…Anti?”

Matt almost spat out his Diet Coke, clamping a hand over his mouth as he choked on the fizzy drink, the near-empty can hitting the floor with a clatter. As Mark evaporated the spill, leaving a sticky residue behind, the other tried to catch his breath.

“You… you got... pair…” he managed to wheeze out before coughing again to clear his throat. “Sorry, you just… you got paired with _Anti_?”

“Yeah…?” Mark shot him a curious glance. “I thought you knew, like, basically everything, though. Whole super-special Omnipresence thing and whatnot? Also... the fact that you sound so surprised that I am paired with him really doesn’t give me a ton of confidence. Don’t think I can take him on or something? Because if so, _ouch_ , my pride.”

“ _Extremely_ limited Nigh Omnipresence,” Matt corrected him, tossing the can into the recycling bin near the door “And, no, it’s not that I doubt your capabilities… I’m just... _surprised_ , that I hadn’t heard of this decision before it was made. Usually, Fe thinks through pairing anyone with _him_ really thoroughly… usually with my help, but…” Matt sighed, then shook his head. “But, you’ve proven yourself capable with almost every other villain so far. I guess it’d be a smart move to give you a shot.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," he muttered sarcastically. "But, anyway, yeah. Anti. I’ve talked to Dan and Cry about it, but…” He began playing with his hands again as the other resumed pacing, this time curling tiny orange trails of flame around his fingers. “They had differing opinions on how to approach it. Plus... I mean, you’re the guy who sees everything. I’ve got to think that you know more about him than anyone else here.”

"Well, yeah, but…” Matt ran a hand through his already mussed hair. “You know what happens to me around him! Something about him just... messes me up. I don't really know why; it's really... it's really weird, like he's not even really here sometimes, even when he _is_ there… you know? Like when he’s in the games, I can’t see him. That world is separate from this world, which is one of the ways I’m limited in. But when he is out, like, physically there, he still isn’t… " Mark nodded to pretend he knew what the other was talking about, bit the other seemed to realize that Mark wasn't following and trailed off, shrugged tiredly. Then, he sighed. "But... I'll keep a lookout and let you know. Wish I could help more, but everything that we know, you got in that file." He nodded towards the folder in Mark's hand, then winced and reached up to massage his forehead as his headache apparently flared up again.

“...Well, thanks anyway, Matt,” Mark offered, standing up to face the other. “Totally get it. I mean, we can’t all be as OP as him. Got to have some kind of limits.”

“Yeah, I guess, but…” Matthew shrugged again. “Never mind. Anyway, if I have learned anything about that glitchified guy, it’s that he has a schedule. He showed up two days ago; you got at least until Thursday before he’ll show up again. So, enjoy your next couple days off!”

Mark grinned. “Nice. Well, alright then! I guess I’ll be out of your hair for a while.”

“Thank the heavens,” Matt replied as he rolled his eyes, smiling slightly as Mark made some mock offended noises.

Shutting the door softly behind him, Mark paused in thought, tossing the file from one hand to another. Then he smiled before heading out to get the last and, frankly, the most important opinion he needed on this.

~~~~~~~~~

"You think I can handle him, Chica Bica?" Flopping down on the couch and tossing the file to the floor somewhere, Mark began scratching his dog vigorously behind the ears. He grinned as the golden retriever borfed excitedly, squirming from his hold to run a lap around the couch, then collapsed against his leg again and begged for more attention. "Awww that's a good girl," he cooed. Grabbing her front paws and pulling them up to settle on his knees so he could fawn over his precious pup face to face, he began running his fingers through her hair again. She whined happily, then licked his face once before scrabbling onto the couch next to him to get a full body rub.

"I mean, I could handle anyone, couldn't I?" he asked, grinning as Chica barked in apparent agreement. "Bet he wouldn't stand a chance against you, though, huh puppo? Not even the biggest, baddest villain could stand a chance against the almighty Chica!"

Going back to scratching her behind the ears, he heard a familiar popping noise behind him, then the sound of footsteps stumbling onto the floor. Without even shooting the arrivals a glance, he called out,"Tyler, what did I say about teleporting directly into my apartment? I could've been changing!"

"In the living room?"

Turning around, he grinned as he saw Tyler, with Amy and Wade in tow, standing by the kitchen counter. "Don't tell me how to live my life." To the others, he greeted with, "Hey, guys. Game night tonight?" Chica jumped off of the couch and went to go sniff at the new arrivals.

"Since you totally cheated last time, I think it's only fair we face off first so I can show everyone what a loser you are," was Wade's only reply as he immediately headed for the computers, booting it up with practiced ease. "Tyler, you're on my team. Just watch him, and you'll see what I mean."

"How the hell am I supposed to have cheated at Prop Hunt? Despite looking at the others screen, which you saw I didn't do, how, literally how, could I have cheated? You’re the one with the weird witchy mind-control powers, _Lord_ , but you don’t see me blindly accusing anyone!"

"Sounds like something a person who cheated at Prop Hunt might say…” Mark rolled his eyes, then threw a decorative pillow at his friend. Dodging the pillow, Wade straightened up and stared down Mark, who just stuck out his tongue at him.

“Guess there’s only one way to settle this...” Mark replied examining his nails in faux nonchalance.

“.... it’s a faceoff…”

“Tyler, it was going to be my dramatic reveal!”

“Oh, like you don’t get enough dramatic reveals in your job!””

Rolling his eyes, Mark waved away Tyler’s retort and sighed. “"It's official. I... I don't think we have a choice!" Sighing again, Mark looked dramatically off to the left. "I feel like the only way we can resolve this is..." Mark paused for effect, then, "....an Ultimate Videogame Showdown!"

"Oh, you are so going to lose."

"Shut it, Barnes. Tyler and I,” Throwing an arm around his friend’s shoulder, Mark grinned. “...We make an unbeatable team!"

"I already called him."

“...shit…. I meant, uh… _Amy_!” Grabbing his girlfriend in a side-hug, he grinned and continued. “ _Amy_ and I, we make an unbeatable team!”

“...Glad to know I was your absolute first choice, _babe_.”

Wade shrugged. “Guess that's fair. We get props first!”

“Hold up, let’s move the couch over to the computers so Tyler and I have a place to sit. Felix broke both of my swivel chairs last time he was over.”

Tyler just stared at him. “How the hell did he….”

Mark just shook his head. “Don’t ask. Just help me move the couch.”

His friend still looked confused but helped him move the coffee table and Amy’s desk out of the way, and then slide the couch in front of the computers. As everyone else began booting up the game, Mark felt a buzz in his pocket, and, curious, pulled out his phone to see a text from his kinda-Boss.

 _‘Herd u wer talkin shit._ ’

Groaning, Mark unlocked his phone. “ _Tell Matt to go home. He can’t spend all of his waking hours informing you when people are talking about you,” he typed. “Besides, you did break them. Fact, not insult_.”

Almost as soon as he sent the text, he received a message in return. “ _Was just leaning back in it! It was a total fluke! Could’ve happened to anyone!”_

_“You leaned back in it so fast that it broke it and the chair behind it. I call bull, asshole.”_

_“Blocked and reported.”_

Snorting, Mark set his phone down on the now skewed coffee table, then jumped over the back of the couch. “Okay, let’s do this.” Holding out his fist, Amy obliged and bumped her fist against his, Tyler and Wade sharing an awkward high five to the side of them. “You guys are going down.”

Amid the furniture rearrangement, a certain criminal’s file ended up pinned between a bookshelf and a wall, the intended reader not missing it, nor even remembering it, by the next day.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is confused

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of the first chapters I actually had written for this, so I'm kinda excited to finally release the polished version of one of my original ideas! The story has evolved a lot from where it first began, but fleshing it out has actually been so fun! Even if this ends up being a flop, I'm so glad to have a little world to work on and write out. Even though I don't update very often, I'm always fleshing out the story lines and running through scenes in my head. Having a tangible idea to roll around and just having something to focus on has been such a lifesaver. Anyway, thank you all so much if you're still giving me a chance! I know that the storyline is pretty choppy, but if nothing else, this is good practice as it's one of my first actually-well-thought-out-multiple-chapters fanfic idea. Plus it's pretty dang fun.
> 
> But, anyway, that's enough rambling. Let's finally get back to our favorite Irish bean. Hope you enjoy and aren't too confused at my choppy and incoherent writing!

_**“...these Capabilities, though still relatively new in comparison to the billions of years that are the timeline of this earth, have been divided into several categories: Telekinesis, Mimicry, Manipulation, Heightened Abilities, Transportation, and Elemental. Scientists are still discovering new Capabilities as time continues, but a majority of them fit under the umbrella of the 6 general categories listed above. Please note: the following are only summaries of each category. For more detailed explanations, see Chapters 35-42...”** _

_This wasn’t right._

_His teacher sat in front of him, asking him questions about the familiar textbook in front of him, asking about him, asking about his powers. The situation seemed normal, comforting, even._

_But this wasn’t right._

_“Okay, Jack,” the man sitting in front of him said, flipping the folder closed with a sigh. “We’ll continue this later. I need to speak with the boss, first.”_

_“O-okay,” Jack stuttered as the other got up, nervously picking at the sleeves on his tattered blue hoodie. He hadn’t taken it off ever since he had gotten here. In such an unfamiliar place, it was nice to have a comforting, familiar object on him at all times, even if it was dirty and had several cuts on the back, which coincidentally lined up with the stinging scars on his back._

_But why was it comforting? Or familiar?_

_...And when had the scars gotten there?_

_Looking to the right of him, he curiously cocked his head at the kid sitting on the opposite edge of the couch. The kid's brown eyes connected with his, then he quickly looked away, adjusting his glasses and letting his overgrown curls bounce down to hide his face. "Do you think I'm getting closer, Bob?" he whispered quietly, and the kid quickly glanced at him before looking away and shrugging._

_"I dunno," he barely heard the other mumble. "I can just help amplify, not see how close you are. Honestly, I don't know why I'm here. If you don't know what your capability is still, then I don't think I can help."_

_"Oh," was all Jack could respond with, looking back down at his hands twisting tattered blue fabric between his fingers._

_“Ah, Mr. Hurley, thank you for coming,” Jack’s teacher said quickly, letting a familiar looking man into the room. Jack looked up from his sleeves to meet the deep green eyes of Mr. Chad Hurley, whom he recognized from spending several hours talking with after he had gotten here a year ago._

_A year?_

_That’s not right._

_When had he-_

_“Jack! Nice to see you! You’re not giving Michael any more trouble, are you?” Mr. Hurley asked jokingly, beckoning for the boy over to him. Quickly sliding off the couch, the boy ran over to the two, skidding to a stop in front of them and staring down at the untied laces of his sneakers._

_"No sir," he mumbled under his break._

_"Just what I like to hear, Jackieboy," his Boss chuckled, ruffling Jack’s hair as he spoke._

_Jackieboy._

_Mr. Hurley couldn’t call him that._

_Only F-_

_“Well?” Hurley continued, interrupting Jack’s thoughts. “What did you want to speak with me about? Has Jack broken through to his capabilities yet?” The usually calm and collected voice of the boss now held a tinge of ... excitement? Hurley’s hand was still on Jack’s head, and the boy squirmed under the cold touch._

_Who was F? The one who was allowed to call him Jackieboy?_

_“That’s... no, he hasn’t, boss,” Mr. Stevens said quietly, picking at a scab on the back of his hand. “That’s why I called you down here.”_

_“Ah... I see.” Hurley’s fingers dug into Jack’s scalp. “Well, we’ll just have to keep trying, won’t we, Jackieboy?”_

_It felt so wrong for him to say it. The man with the cold, green eyes, not the boy with the..._

_Jack frowned._

_What boy?_

_Hurley’s fingers dug in deeper, pulling Jack out of his thoughts. “I said, won’t we, Jack?” Jack winced, then nodded. Hurley’s fingers relaxed, and he patted the boy’s head. “There’s a good boy,” he whispered. Then he turned back to the other kid. “Let’s discuss this, okay? Maybe make a new routine?”_

_Mr. Stevens nodded, relieved, nervously fingering the silver collar around his neck. “Y-yes sir. Jack, do you mind leaving us for a moment? The Wii is still hooked up if you want to play a couple rounds. Tell Bob he can take a break.”_

_Jack’s eyes lit up, and he quickly ran over to the tv, vaulting over the couch, grabbing the remote and flipping it on. "Wanna play?" he asked breathlessly, grabbing two controllers and holding one out to the boy in question._

_Bob looked at the controller, seemingly debating something in his mind, then accepted it. "You're so going down," he said with a hint of a smile, and Jack grinned as well. This was the first time he had gotten anything besides a mumbled answer from the boy! You think after being friends with him for years, he would have..._

_Jack frowned slightly, vision going out of focus as he zoned in on a stain on the carpet. Years? How long had he known the quiet kid?_

_A nudge from the other brought him out of his thoughts, and Jack quickly shot the other a grin before turning back to the task a hand: absolutely wiping the floor with his new rival._

_“I don’t get it,” Jack heard Hurley say frustratedly in the back as he booted up the game. “He’s a 10. I know it. Jason doesn’t lie. So then why isn’t he showing his capabilities already? That’s the whole reason I gave you the opportunity to work here, isn’t it? Find it, amplify it, whatever you do, just do it already!”_

_"W-Why not have J-Jason do it, then?" he heard his teacher stutter as both boys on the couch waited for the game to load. Glancing back, Jack was surprised at how young Mr. Stevens looked in that moment, almost cowering away from his Boss as the taller man glared at him. He really couldn't have been much older than him. Maybe early teens?_

_The title screen for “Super Mario Brothers” popped up on screen, distracting Jack once again from the conversation, and he smiled as he grabbed a controller, selected a level, then began to play. Beginning to jump over the first Goombas, giggling as he evaded Bob's attempts to put him in danger, he still stayed partially focused on the conversation happening on the other side of the room._

_"Because that's not Jason's specialty! You're the one with the capability suited for this, Michael! But, if you feel like you can't handle it, then by all means, head right on out. Our agreement doesn't have to hold up if you don't want it to..."_

_"N-No... no, I-I'll do it, sir, please. Thank you for the opportunity, again, sir. Happy to work here, sir. Though I have to say, that, uh... Bob's the one who does the amplifying. I'm actually part of the Heightened Senses category, and-"_

_"Well if your capability is so 'heightened,' why am I not seeing any tangible results?"_

_“T-that’s not really… how it works for me, sir. He’s slow to show them, even for a normal capability. Even 2s and 3s start around age 5. He’s almost 11! Maybe... you misunderstood?” There was a moment of silence. Then, “I mean, maybe he misunderstood! I’d blame Jason! Everyone’s screws up at one point! I mean, n-not yours though, of course, boss! But-“_

_“Stop your blabbering,” Hurley hissed. “Jason. Never. Messes. Up. This kid is a 10, and...”_

_The two began to speak in hushed whispers, and Jack couldn’t hear any more of their conversation. Not that it really mattered too much to him. Obviously, they were talking about Jack, but he didn’t know what all the numbers were for, or even who Jason was._

_He must work here, Jack figured. Just must’ve never met him._

_Watching his green-clad character jump onto the flagpole, Bob groaning in defeat beside him, his mind was again thrown into confusion as the plumber ran off screen, signaling the end of the level. Wait, who had he met here?_

_He’d been here for a while._

_He’d been here his whole life._

_He knew so many people here._

_He knew Mr. Stevens, and Bob, and Mr. Hurley, and..._

_There was a clatter as the Wii remote hit the hardwood floor. Jack grabbed onto the sleeves of the comforting blue hoodie again, taking deep breaths. Tears burned at the back of his eyes, and he blinked them back furiously as the crushing realization hit him. Why didn’t he remember anyone besides those two?_

_"...Are you okay?" he heard someone mumble off to the side of him, overpowered by his teacher's voice shouting from behind him._

_“Jack, if you break that controller, you will have to pay for it!” Stevens called jokingly from the back._

_Jack managed a small laugh. “D-don’t worry,” he stuttered, picking up the controller from the ground. Shooting a quick glance to the side, he saw Bob looking at him in concern, controller set beside him, forgotten._

_Speaking of the controller, where was his? Weren't they in the middle of a game? Glancing around, Jack finally saw the remote on the floor and sighed in relief._

_Huh. It must’ve just slipped from his grasp._

_A single tear rolled down his cheek, and he wiped it away, confused. Why was he crying? Looking up, he saw that he was still on level select, and frowned. What had happened?_

_Something felt weird, but he didn’t know why._

_Shrugging off the feeling, he turned back to the game. Using a bookshelf from the other side of the room, he got Mario up high enough to leap onto a taller platform before putting it back. His right eye twitched, and he took a second to rub it as he smiled. Having had played this game for years on his trusty DS, he found every level generally easy to beat._

_"W...Was that a glitch?" he heard Bob mumble. Risking a glance away from the screen, he saw that his friend was letting the controller dangle loosely from his fingertips, seemingly more focused on the screen. "I could've sworn there was... in the game..." He shook his head, then resumed playing. "Never mind. This session has been going on for days, I'm surprised my mind hasn't started messing with me earlier."_

_Oh. Had it really been going on that long? Looking closer at Bob, he finally noticed the shadows under his eyes, and how tired his own eyes and body felt. Huh. He could've sworn this lesson had only been going on for... a few minutes? A week? Maybe a... day?_

_“No, Stevens!” Jack heard Hurley snap at his teacher, looking back to see the guy nervously flinch back. “Obviously, your way isn’t working, so it’s time to try my way!”_

_“It wasn’t my way, it’s what Adam recommended! I still think that-“_

_“Just do as I say, or you will be sorry,” he hissed before turning and seeing Jack staring at them over the back of the couch, the shouting finally having brought him away from the game. Hurley took a second to force a smile before motioning for Jack to come back over to him. “Okay, so Jack, Stevens has been given a new lesson plan that he’ll be going through during the week to try to break through to your powers, okay? Hopefully, a new approach combined with Muysken's capability will yield results.” Looking at his teacher, Hurley frowned. "Results," he repeated, and the teenager nodded hurriedly._

_Jack stopped in front of them and, looking up at the man, nodded slightly. His eyes flickered to his visibly shaking teacher, and he offered what he hoped was a calming smile. What had shaken up the teen so much?_

_Hurley smiled. “Well then, keep working at it, Jack. You’re a really special kid. You know that, don’t you?”_

_Jack nodded, fiddling with the hoodie sleeves again. Hurley finally looked at what Jack was wearing, and his nose scrunched up. “What are you wearing? Looks like you haven’t taken it off since the last time I saw you! Do I need to get you some more clothes?”_

_“N-no sir,” Jack said quietly. “I... I just really like wearing it. It makes me feel.., happy.”_

_Hurley frowned. “Huh.” Turning around, he took a step towards the door, then paused and turned back around. “Now that I think about it, I don’t remember giving that to you. Michael?" The teacher quickly shook his head, hugging his clipboard as he shrunk in on himself. Turing to look at the boy who was now leaning against the side of the couch, he tried again. "Bob?” The kid shook his head, signaling that he hadn’t given it to Jack either. “Weird. Jack, where did you get this?”_

_The words slipped out before he could even understand what he was saying. “Felix gave it to me.”_

_Hurley froze, then quickly grabbed the boys shoulder. Jack winced and tried to squirm away from the man’s hold.“Who’s Felix,” Hurley asked quietly._

_“I... I... I don’t know!” Jack squeaked. “L-let go of my shoulder! You’re hur-“_

_“I said: Who’s. Felix?” Hurley growled again, gripping Jack’s shoulder even more tightly._

_“I- I swear I don’t know who he is! Please, j-just let me go! I don’t know why I said that! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Jack said frantically._

_Hurley finally let go of Jack, who backed away, tripping over himself as he stepped back towards his teacher, who shrunk back ever so slightly as his boss’s gaze switched to him. “I thought Adam already dealt with him,” he growled._

_“H-he did, sir! But, sir, he's a newbie! Subjects are disoriented a week or so afterwards before it finally takes effect; he told you that! Jack has moments like t-that every so often, but they’re not happening... so much... anymore... sir...” His teacher's voice slowly gave out to a whisper as he wilted under Hurley’s gaze._

_“If he still remembers that little brat by next week, you're going to regret it. You understand?”_

_Mr. Stevens stuttered a yes, and Jack tried to keep blinking back tears. He had never seen Hurley like this before..._

_...No… That was wrong..._

_... When...?_

_“Keep working,” Hurley snapped before storming out of the room. As soon as the door slammed shut, Stevens let out a shuddering breath, then took a couple trembling steps towards the couch in front of the tv still displaying the SMB title screen. He collapsed onto it, and barely being able to notice Bob still leaning against the couch, Jack sidestepped the kid followed suit, wrapping his arms around himself. A shaky sob escaped his mouth, but the other was too shaken to notice. Staring blankly at the other, he saw his teacher's mouth moving, and it took him a moment to pick up that he was muttering to himself too quiet for him to hear._

_After a few more deep breaths, Stevens sat up. “Give it to me,” he demanded, his voice low and shaking._

_Jack looked up at him and sniffed, wiping his nose with his wrist. “W-what?” he stuttered._

_“The hoodie. Give it to me. Now.” His voice was steadier this time, and his fear filled eyes were filled with something else now._

_“W-why do you-“_

_“I said, give it to me, Jack!” Stevens shouted, and Jack flinched back so fast he almost fell off the couch. Even though he couldn’t have been much older than himself, there was something in his tone of voice that made him sound a lot older._

_Jack couldn’t breathe as he quickly stripped off the hoodie, leaving him bare-chested as he tried to hand it to the other boy, hands and vision shaking so badly he could barely see what he was doing. He felt the fabric being ripped from his grasp, and he curled back into himself, not noticing his teacher leaving, but seeing when he returned empty-handed. Jack watched him numbly, still shaking as he tried to breathe. He felt like a piece inside him had died; like a single connection to something, or someone, had just been ripped from him. He vaguely saw a head of curly hair peek over the edge of the couch, brown eyes watching him almost sympathetically before he became almost oblivious to everything._

_“Class dismissed,” his teacher said quietly, looking guiltily at the trembling boy on the couch before turning to the door. “Get some rest. We’re going to be working a lot harder tomorrow.”_

_Jack didn’t question the early dismissal and quickly ran out of the room to his small space at the end of the hall. He barely had shut his door before he felt the tears fall. Collapsing onto his grey-sheeted bed, he buried his face into the lumpy pillow._

_He didn’t stop crying until he was asleep._

_The next morning, he showed up to class, bright and early with his signature smile on his face, wearing a tight-fitted black shirt and jeans. That day, he would notice Mr. Stevens pushing him harder and harder to find his capability, digging deeper and deeper into his hobbies, likes, and talents to find something, anything. Bob seemed even more reclusive than before, not even glancing at the Irishman this time. He kept looking nervously at the door and seemed to be concentration on something intently, but Jack didn't pay much attention to the other. He was being constantly distracted by the tests his teacher threw at him._

_Jack didn’t mind. He wanted to discover his power almost as much as his teacher did._

_That day, he would also notice that Mr. Stevens was more high strung than usual. He snapped at Jack for not being able to answer certain questions, which he never did, and he uncharacteristically seemed lose more of his patience every time they hit another dead end. Bob's brow would furrow, and he'd seem to fall into a deeper concentration every time._

_Curiously, Jack wondered if he had done something to upset either of them earlier._

_He didn't remember._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  /chapter 21/
> 
> /heading: /The New Era//
> 
> /subheading: /Capabilities//
> 
> /subset: /Manipulation//
> 
> /sub-subset: /Mental Manipulation//
> 
> /Mental manipulation simply refers to the ability to manipulate the thoughts, emotions, memory, or even exhibit complete control over the mental facilities of oneself or others. Weak forms of this include emotion projection or thought projection, which ranges to more powerful forms such as possession, mind control, emotional control, and memory tampering./
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  


	10. The Mustache(TM)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'all's probably thought this story was d E A D but n O P E
> 
> I mean, like, I'm still working on it...
> 
> ...yeah, this isn't a chapter... Life has been ugh, and I still only have half of the next chapter written. But! I was scrolling through my docs and I forgot I had this little snippet I was gonna try and work in forever ago but never got the chance to? It's not even 500 words, but it's something! Just thought I'd post it just as a reminder that I haven't forgotten this and that I am still deeply dedicated and devoted to this story and delete it when I finally finish chapter 10
> 
> ...and I'll admit it, I love my Cranky child, and since I won't get to write him again for a while... here he be!

“What is  _ up _ , my Cranky boi?” Mark greeted the villain as normal. The villain immediately spun around, metal arm already up defensively in his face as he grabbed the bag at his side, as if Mark had already managed to get the stolen goods back from him. But he immediately froze as he saw the state of the man in front of him. The red hair was already bad enough, but now...

Mark had grinned cheekily as he stroked his previously black, but now bright blue, mustache. “Hey, look! Now we match!”

Even with half of his face being obscured by his metallic mask, it was clear that, from his expression, he wanted to give up on life right then. Messing with something on his right index finger, he turned and pointed at the wall, blue paint spraying out of the digit and coating the wall. As he began moving his hand around, Mark just leaned back against the other wall of the alleyway and watched, amused, as the villain wrote a simple ‘no’ on the wall, then underlined it 5 times. The paint began dripping down and mixing the lines together, making it difficult to read, and suddenly Mark was reminded of how he had misread the villain’s name 7 months ago.  

“Aww, do you not like it? I think I’m even more handsome like this. I mean, you’re always copying me, with the hair dye and everything, so I thought I’d copy something from you, so it’s even!”

The villain just gave him a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ look. Messing with his finger again, he raised it up towards Mark and slashed it across the man’s face. For a second, all Mark could see was pink. He yelped and furiously wiped at his eyes, trying in vain to clear his eyes. As his sight finally returned, he caught a glimpse of the villain stifling a laugh before forcing on his previous, annoyed look. 

“You… you…” Mark sputtered for words as he realized what the dastardly villain had done. “I spent, like, a whole 10 minutes on the mustache, and you just spray paint it pink?  _ Pink _ ?

Mark had shown up to stop Crank the next day smiling brightly, doing nothing to hide or change the bright pink facial hair. The villain had rolled his eyes, but throughout the entire fight, Mark had kept catching him trying not to smile.

He hadn’t changed his now-iconic mustache since.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I feel kinda bad about the wait. Sorry about that. I do appreciate your guy's continual support though, and just want to take a moment and say that, sincerely, I thank you. Writing in and of itself is a relaxing and enjoyable and just a fun activity, but having people comment and read it just makes it so much more... fulfilling, I guess. So thank you. 
> 
> As for the next chapter... let's just say...
> 
> _“Smile,” Mark said in a sing-song voice as he quickly flipped to the front facing camera, grinning and throwing up a peace sign as he tried to get the criminal in the background..._
> 
> ...stuff is gonna happen. Whether it ends out good or not is still up in the air rn. Thank you for reading, and hope that you have a lovely day/night :D

**Author's Note:**

> it gets better i swear


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